


The Consequences Both Reasonable and Unreasonable of Faking One's Death

by rakketyrivertam



Series: Consequences [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-War, Angst, Background Relationships, Cute, Embedded Images, Ensemble - Freeform, Family, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Mechpreg, Implied/Referenced Sticky, Kidnapping, M/M, Reconciliation, Reunion, Transformers Sparklings, blastwave, cosmoceptor, ratchjack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:56:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21916540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rakketyrivertam/pseuds/rakketyrivertam
Summary: Jazz deserted for one very good reason.
Relationships: Jazz/Prowl, Springer & Bluestreak
Series: Consequences [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1678282
Comments: 14
Kudos: 100





	The Consequences Both Reasonable and Unreasonable of Faking One's Death

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FourthFloorWrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FourthFloorWrites/gifts).

> This fic would never have seen the light of day if it weren't for fourthwrites. They sent me an ask as part of an ask game to post a snippet of a WIP you didn't finish this year. Well, they had such nice things to say about it, it turned from a 300ish word blurb in my notes app to a 19k Word document in the space of five days, subsequently beating my personal records for longest one-shot, longest fic, longest written work ever, most words written in a week, most words written in a month, most words written in a day, and longest writing sprint ever. Their cheerleading over the past week is what kept me going, even after a near-death experience on Friday (seriously, who puts pineapple in apple sauce?). So, now, it is my honor to present to you **Consequences**.
> 
> Art by the amazing [hedgehog turtle](hedgehogturtle.tumblr.com)

Jazz stared at the mirror, breath coming in harsh, uneven vents. Finally, he looked away, shutting his chestplates with a snap. He rushed to gather his belongings – mementos, survival gear, gifts from the friends he would miss. He took a deep breath, pausing for a moment as he considered his actions.

He picked up a datapad and started drafting a letter to his conjunx, writing and deleting the same first line over and over again. With a cry of frustration, he gave up and tucked it into his subspace with everything else he had gathered.

He set out for the entrance and settled on his wheels, pinging Teletraan I with intentions of a short recreational drive. He drove to the border of Autobot territory, snowy with Earthen winter, and then he kept going – faster and faster and faster....

Until he skidded and went diving into the forest to the sound of flight engines closing in.

“Please,” he mumbled, “please don’t make me go back.”

And with those last words, he fell into unconsciousness.

* * *

**_Half a vorn later...._**  
_(Forty years...)_

Spanner took a swig of his enerGULP, settling into the command center with his fellow officers. He took a deep breath and pulled up his work for the day. "Sensor upgrade complete,” he reported. “Sync to Teletraan I."

"Teletraan I synced to SkySpy," Cosmos reported over comms.

"SkySpy synced to Teletraan I," Perceptor called from across the room.

Spanner nodded. "Systems test active in five, four, three, two, one."

Perceptor grinned. "All systems operating at full capacity.”

"SkySpy holding up nicely." Cosmos sounded like he was smiling as well.

Suddenly, Perceptor scowled. "Spanner, look at this reading – that can’t possibly be accurate, can it?"

Spanner frowned at the sensor read out. “Can you get someone from medical up here?”

“Ask and you shall receive,” First Aid called from the doorway, doing a little bow. “What do you need me to take a look at?”

Perceptor titled the screen wordlessly.

First Aid’s eyes went wide. "That's not - We should probably contact Optimus Prime. Right now."

* * *

"Where are you, little bot?"

Giacoso retreated further back into his hiding place, desperately hoping his pursuer wouldn't be able to see him.

"Is that energon I see?"

Giacoso glanced at his hands in horror - they were covered with the stuff, practically soaked. The chances of him not tracking it through the base, leaving a trail directly to his current location were slim to none.

He got his feet under him, ready to run for it.

A giant hand lifted him out from behind the box by his scruff bar. "Does your Ri know you've been getting into the energon goodies again?" Ramjet asked.

Coso shrugged, aiming for an innocent smile. "Oops."

Ramjet sighed.

"They were right there! Completely unguarded! If Ri doesn't want me getting into them, he'd tell Thundercracker and Thundercracker wouldn't let me. So no Thundercracker means I'm allowed." Coso crossed his arms over his chest, firmly secure in his own logic.

"And you didn't think that maybe Thundercracker wasn't there because he's waiting for you to show up for a flying lesson?"

"Oops."

"What's going on here?" a voice asked as it rounded the corner.

"Ri!" Coso kicked away from Ramjet, landing on his peds and running for his parent. "Ramjet's being mean again."

Ramjet huffed and crossed his arms. "He's getting into things he shouldn't be again, Jazz."

"Is that right?" Jazz crouched down to wipe the energon off his sparkling's mouth and hands.

Coso spluttered into the wet rag. "He's just mad I ate all of them without him."

Jazz raised an eyebrow. "All of them?" He sighed and shook his head. "I guess that means there's not any left for tomorrow."

"Nuh-uh! You just have to ask Dirge to make more. He stress bakes so it shouldn't be a problem."

Jazz smiled sadly. "You are far too much like your sire, bitlet."

Coso stood up straight, grinning. "That's a good thing, right?"

"Sometimes." Jazz nudged him toward the door. "Now, go, you're supposed to be attending a flying lesson."

"Fine, fine, I'm going. But remember what I said. Dirge. Stress baking. Energon goodies."

Jazz muffled a laugh. "Get going, you rascal!"

"I'm going! I'm going!" Coso ran out the room and then there was the distinct sound of transforming.

"Not inside!" Ramjet yelled.

Then came the quickly fading sound of a jet engine.

Jazz didn't bother muffling his laugh that time. "Kids will be kids, Ramjet."

Ramjet sighed.

"So, anything of note on your supply run?"

Ramjet huffed. "The minibot at the energon depot nearly wouldn't serve me. Says it's on ration and I have to prove the size of my household. I promised to bring the paperwork next time."

Jazz pushed aside the uneasiness at the word paperwork. "On ration?"

"They're converting to solar collectors, but not fast enough. Earth's resources are being depleted. I'm sure Starscream and Skywarp can rig something up for us."

Jazz nodded.

"About the Cybertron Day parade-"

"No."

"Come on, Jazz. He's got Seeker code in him. Let him know what it's like to fly in a squadron."

"He can experience that right here, where it’s safe."

"Don't forget he got his sense of showmanship from you."

"No. There will be Autobots there. My final answer is no."

Ramjet huffed and turned to walk away. "Don't get what's so bad about him hanging around Autobots. His spark-sire's one of them, right? Maybe he'll get to meet him."

Jazz slumped, looking defeated. "That's exactly why he can't go."

* * *

"Keep this information among us for now," Optimus ordered, standing up from where he’d been bent over the screen.

Cosmos, recalled from space, fidgeted where he stood. "Shouldn't we tell Prowl? This seems like something he should know."

Red Alert opened his mouth, no doubt to list a litany of reasons Prowl should not be trusted in this case, but Optimus cut him off before he could begin.

"No. Not yet. Not until we're sure.” He sighed. “Besides, Prowl needs to be focused on the Cybertron Day parade. If ever there was a time for trouble, it would be then."

Perceptor glanced at the others. "Shouldn't – shouldn't we at least dispatch someone for recon?"

"Hm... Send Mirage the coordinates and have him investigate,” Optimus decided. “Make sure he knows that it's Prime-level clearance only – he reports directly to me and no one else in this matter. And... make sure to remind him that if it is Jazz, we have no way of knowing why he hasn’t returned to us.”

* * *

"Coso."

Coso grumbled in his recharge, booting up slowly.

"Come on, wake up, bitlet."

Coso blearily onlined his optics, staring up at Thrust. "Yeah?"

Thrust smiled affectionately. "We're headed off to the Cybertron Day parade. Wanted to say good bye before we left."

"Can I come?" Coso asked, wide awake.

Thrust shook his head. "Your creator said no."

Coso pouted. “He doesn’t have to _know_.”

Thrust sighed. "Of course. Well, I guess if you followed us far enough without being caught, we wouldn't be able to take you back without being late."

"Really?!" Coso sat up sharply, nearly bouncing.

"Just remember I didn't tell you that."

Coso nodded, already getting out of bed. "Pinky swear. This is gonna be so awesome!"

* * *

_"And here come the Seekers of Vos! First we've got the Elite Trine, led by Winglord Starscream, closely behind him are the Rainmakers of the Second Trine and, last but not least, those Seekers we all know and love to call the Coneheads! Looks like they're getting in formation, folks, doing a low flyby and - who's that?_

_"Oh my God! Folks, you wouldn't believe it, here's a transformer we've never seen before! Amazing! Impossible! Let's look at the replay shall we?_

_"And there he is! A car comes speeding out onto the track below, and jettisons up the ramp, transforming from car to jet in midair before joining the Seekers in formation! We're attempting to get a comment from Optimus Prime on just who this newcomer is. More coming soon, but for now, let's watch the rest of the show!"_

* * *

Jazz dropped a stack of datapads on the floor, not caring how they shattered as he gaped in horror at the screen. "No. No, no, no, no, no...."

"Hiding something?"

Jazz whirled around as Mirage shimmered into view.

Mirage raised an eyebrow. "You know, we were still at war when you disappeared. That makes you a deserter, Jazz."

Jazz snarled. "You're not taking him from me."

Mirage dragged his digits over a nearby bookshelf and inspected his fingertips. "And exactly which Seeker did you betray us for to get that particular bundle of joy?" He looked up and stared. "I'm sure Prowl would love to know."

Jazz lunged.

* * *

"Hi! Fiona Freeman, evening news! That was some performance out there! What's your name?"

Giacoso beamed at the slight human that was pointing a recorder of some sort at him. "I'm Coso."

Fiona grinned back. "Nice to meet you, Coso! How old are you?"

"Half a vorn."

"How long is that in human time measurements?"

"Relatively speaking, for a Stanii frame, about six years old." Coso looked up to see a stern-faced Praxian approaching. His optics cycled wider in shock before refocusing on the human. "I believe you have laws about interviewing children without an adult present."

Fiona smiled shamelessly. "That's correct. Would you be his parent?"

The Praxian crossed his arms. "I am Prowl, the Ark's first officer and vice commander of the reunified Cybertronian forces. I suggest you take yourself elsewhere."

Fiona huffed and left.

Prowl turned back to Giacoso. "Which trine is your creators'? We should be getting you back to them."

Coso raised an eyebrow. "They're not my creators. Ri stayed home."

"You don't have a sire?"

Coso shook his head.

Prowl sighed. "My condolences."

"That's okay." Coso grinned. "Ri says I'm just like him."

Prowl gave a small, sad smile. "Yes, you remind me of someone I once knew, too." He shook his head. "But that's in the past. Which Seeker brought you here today?"

"All of them except the Rainmakers." Coso frowned thoughtfully. "Thrust will be the least mad at me for wandering off, though. But if you help me find Dirge he'll make goodies tonight!" He grinned up at the older mech. "He stress bakes."

Prowl laughed. "Let's get you back to Dirge then, shall we?"

Coso nodded, hopping in his excitement as Prowl led him through the crowds.

"Did you have to practice a lot for the maneuvers today?"

"Nope! Thundercracker tight-beamed them to me when they realized I followed them. He's the one who teaches me to fly."

"Really? Your Ri doesn't fly?"

"Nope! He's a grounder. The humans call his alt mode a race car. He's really fast, actually. But not as fast as me!"

* * *

Mirage dodged, side to side, weaving through the halls of Jazz' home. "What I don't understand is why you felt the need to leave and raise your offspring. Surely Ratchet knows how to perform a reabsorption."

Jazz threw another punch and then lashed out with his legs. "I wanted him! I don't expect you to understand."

Mirage neatly flipped out of reach, clocking Jazz on the visor with his feet along the way. "You've lost your touch," he said, disapprovingly, then he disappeared. "And did his sire not want him? Or did you simply not want to have to explain your indiscretion to your conjunx? We've all been there, Jazz."

Jazz didn't answer, snarling wordlessly through his cracked visor and the energon leaking over his face. 

"Clearly, faking your death was the way to go. You didn't think anyone would notice your absence?"

Jazz snorted. "Notice? Yes. Miss me? Not so much." He grunted as he was thrown backwards and pinned against a wall.

Mirage's face reappeared inches from his nose. "You're my brother, you glitch! I would've helped!"

Jazz stared in shock.

Mirage panted, trying to cool down after using his disruptor. "Blood or no, you're important to me. Fragger."

Jazz shuttered his optics and gripped Mirage's arms.

"So tell me who the sire is so I can kill him for what he did to you."

Jazz laughed bitterly and sagged against the wall. "Is that what you think happened?"

Mirage shrugged. "If I'm wrong, tell me what did."

Jazz shook his head. "Prowl."

"Prowl doesn't have to know."

"No - well, yes, I'd appreciate it - but Prowl is Coso's sire."

Mirage's brow furrowed and he pulled back. "I don't understand. Did he force you?"

"No."

"Then what? You and your conjunx kindled. That's something to be celebrated."

Jazz crossed his arms, stubbornly refusing to meet Mirage's gaze. "Prowl doesn't like sparklings. They're noisy, sticky, dirty, and he has no patience for them. He thinks they're an unnecessary drain on resources, and he has no problem saying so to their faces. Even if there wasn't a war, the moment I budded -" he squeezed his eyes shut "I became nothing but a duty to him. Just something to throw shanix at every once in a while to do his part in society. I couldn't live like that. I couldn't lose the love of my life like that. So I took control of the situation."

Mirage just stood there, deathly silent and still, for one long moment. "I'm going to kill him."

Jazz shook his head. "He doesn't know. This is all extrapolated from past behavior and hypothetical conversations."

Mirage nodded slowly. "I won't tell him, then. How did the Seekers get involved?"

Jazz sighed and walked over to a nearby crate, gesturing for Mirage to join him as he sat down. "They found me. I was by myself, just crashed and probably bleeding out, no hope of taking them on, so I just announced that I was carrying, hoping that at least Thundercracker had a shed of decency. Turns out sparklings and caring for them communally is a big part of Vosi culture." He gestured to the building around them. "They built this, donated nanites when I needed, and helped build each of Coso's frames, too." He twisted to face Mirage head-on. "I wouldn't have made it to emergence without them."

Mirage nodded and stood. "I need to get back and report in. I'll tell them it wasn't you, but you should find a way to mask your spark signature from SkySpy's new sensors before it passes back over this area in a decacycle."

Jazz sighed. "I'll see what Starscream can come up with."

Mirage nudged against his shoulder. "I'd like to come back and meet Coso. I missed you."

Jazz smiled sadly. "I missed you, too."

Mirage smiled back and then disappeared.

"Jazz!" Skywarp teleported into the room. "What happened?"

Jazz stood, wiping his optics so he could see through his own energon again. "Autobot intruder. I'm a deserter, remember? Help me get cleaned up, I don't want Coso to see me like this."

Skywarp nodded and wrapped an arm around his shoulders as he stood.

"And then we'll have a talk about letting him fly in the Cybertron Day celebrations after I explicitly said he wasn’t allowed."

Skywarp's vents stuttered in terror.

* * *

Prowl closed his office door behind him and slumped against the wall, head in his hands as he slid down to the floor. He'd been so sure Jazz was alive after meeting Coso, only to return to Autobot City to learn what exactly Mirage's mission was and what exactly he had - or hadn't - found.

The door pinged, and he ignored it.

A few moments later, it opened anyway, and Smokescreen stepped through.

Prowl huffed. "Damn you and your medical overrides."

Smokescreen closed the door and sat down beside him, grinning. "I'm all official now, cousin, you'll just have to deal with it. How're you holding up?"

Prowl shook his head. "The sparkling looked exactly like him, Smokescreen. He had his sensor horns, his face, his smile.... I was going to go survey the Seekers' complex myself. It's the best lead we've had since the day he disappeared."

Smokescreen nodded, humming to himself. "What were you going to do if you found him?"

Prowl shrugged. "I don't know. Clearly he didn't want me anymore." He nodded toward the door and beyond it. "Everyone else has no problem saying it, I don't know why it's so hard for me to accept."

"Hope isn't a bad thing," Smokescreen said. "For instance, the Constructicons still hope to get you in their berth."

Prowl shook his head, forcing himself to chuckle. "I do have to give them credit for persistency."

Smokescreen laughed, laying his helm on his cousin's shoulder for support.

"I don't know," Prowl said, sobering. "There's six of them and one of me, and I still love Jazz."

"Do you really think you'll ever stop?"

Prowl sighed and leaned his head back. "I just want to know what happened, find his body. And maybe even find out if - if he was ever planning on coming back. I need - I need closure at the very least. We've searched this rock from top to bottom in the last forty local years, and yet we have no answers."

Smokescreen shrugged. "Jazz always was good at disappearing."

"But that's the thing." Prowl stood and started pacing, doorwings hiked high, angled down over his shoulders defensively. "Mechs don't just disappear. Even Mirage can be tracked if you know how. He's out there, we just can't find him!"

Smokescreen raised an eyebrow. "What do you have in mind?"

Prowl frowned sternly, then nodded to himself. "I'm going to continue as I planned. Even if Jazz isn't there, maybe there's a clue. Seekers tend to be gossips, it's possible they know something without even realizing it."

"And just how are you going to get Prime to sign off on that?" Smokescreen asked.

Prowl grinned, positively wickedly. "I'll just mention to Ratchet that I feel the need to take some leave."

Smokescreen shook his head. "You're impossible. At least take some back-up?"

Prowl stopped short, thinking. "I'll take Bluestreak and Springer. Those two could use some brotherly bonding lately." He glanced over. "Patient-doctor confidentiality."

Smokescreen sighed, but nodded. "I won't tell anyone."

* * *

Jazz sighed as he sat on the side of the berth, feeling practically naked without his visor as Starscream fabricated a new one. "Do you understand now why I don't want you leaving like that?"

Coso nodded. "Do we have to leave?" he asked, small and quiet.

Jazz shook his head. "No, not yet. I had a talk with the bot that broke in. If someone decides to investigate again, he'll let us know."

"Okay."

Jazz cupped his sparkling's head with one hand and leaned down to kiss his helm. "You're the most important thing in my life, Coso. I don't want to lose you."

"You won't." Giacoso grinned. "I won't let you."

Jazz laughed. "I suppose you will, won't you? So. Did you have fun?"

"Yeah!" Coso sat up, gesturing freely. "I did the transforming in the air thing we were working on and I got to fly with everybody and the Coneheads blowed things up and -"

Jazz chuckled to himself as his sparkling continued.

"I did get a little lost just once but a really nice mech came and helped me find Dirge. He didn't even realize I was gone, so he's going to be baking all day tomorrow."

Jazz shook his head, smiling. "You're incorrigible. So who was this mech? He have a name?" he asked, preparing to mentally calculate how long it would be before Prowl knew of their sparkling's existence.

"Prowl."

Jazz went still and quiet, spec ops coding taking over in the place of his terror.

Coso continued, oblivious. "Yeah, he was really nice. There was a human who was asking me questions and I thought it was okay, but apparently it's against the law unless you're there. Then he thought one of the Seekers was you! I said, no, my Ri's not here today, and then he asked if I had a Sa and I said no, but you say I'm a lot like him. He said I reminded him of someone he knew, too. Do you think he knew my Sa?"

Jazz stared for a second, processing.

Coso frowned. "Are you okay, Ri?"

Jazz blinked, and then nodded. "I'm okay, brightspark, just tired."

"Oh!" Coso cuddled down into his blankets and offlined his optics. "Okay, I'm asleep now, so you can go to sleep now."

Jazz chuckled and leaned down to kiss his forehelm one last time. "Alright, I'm going, I'm going. I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

"Okay," Coso said, doing everything he could to look even more relaxed and safe and - Jazz cut off that line of thought.

Coso's vents whirred evenly as he dropped into recharge for real.

Jazz smiled and stood, leaving to have his breakdown in the hallway.

Starscream found him there. "Your new visor will be finished by tomorrow night – Oh, Primus what is it now?"

Jazz shook his head. "Coso met his sire at the parade. This is everything I was afraid of."

Starscream scowled. "Does he know the brat is his?"

Jazz shook his head. "I don't think so. But he definitely knows he's mine. How could he not?"

Starscream put a hand on Jazz' shoulder. "Well, we'll do whatever it takes to keep you both safe."

* * *

“Didn’t Mirage already do this?” Bluestreak asked, peering through his scope.

“It’s called due-diligence,” Springer snapped. “One would think you’d be familiar with the concept, being raised by Prowl and all.”

Prowl groaned and massaged the base of his chevron. “I’m beginning to think this is hopeless.”

“Don’t give up,” Bluestreak said, suddenly urgent, “I’m sure Jazz is still out there.”

Prowl treated him to an icy glare. “Not that.”

Springer huffed, putting down his electrobinoculars. “I don’t know why you brought me. I’m useless against this many Seekers, even for fly-by recon.”

Prowl stared at his creations, shaking his head before turning back to the complex below.

* * *

Giacoso happily licked his fingers clean of Dirge’s latest stress-induced baking spree.

Thundercracker shook his head. “One day, you’re going to annoy the wrong mech.”

“Huh?” The sparkling looked up, glossa still on his digits.

“Not everybody stress-bakes. Some of them stress-shoot.”

Coso shrugged. “I’ll burn that bridge when I get to it.”

Thundercracker’s eyebrow shot up. “And just where did you hear that particular turn of phrase?”

“Skywarp said it.”

“Of course, he did. Alright.” Thundercracker clapped his hands together, and Giacoso shot upright. “I have to go into town with Ramjet and the others to make some very rude people see common sense, so two quick loops around the valley and then right back. Understood?”

Coso nodded and gave a sloppy salute. “Sir, yes, sir!”

Thundercracker sighed. “Alright, go. I’ll watch from here.”

“I get to go by myself?!” Coso beamed.

“Yes,” Thundercracker said. “As much as we shouldn’t be rewarding you for sneaking out, you flew exceptionally well at the parade. I think you can handle a couple laps.”

Coso whooped and jumped into the air, transforming and jettisoning off.

His first lap went spectacularly fast, and he gunned it for the first length of the second. Then something caught his eye. He veered closer to get a better look.

* * *

“That’s the new Seeker, isn’t it?” Bluestreak asked, watching the strange black jet run his lap.

Prowl hummed. “His name is Giacoso.”

Springer turned and blinked at Prowl, unimpressed. “Please tell me you’re not collecting another one.”

Bluestreak sighed.

Prowl glared. “Contrary to what you seem to believe, I do not go out of my way collecting lost sparklings, and the one that I have adopted,” he nodded at Bluestreak, “is certainly not your replacement.”

Springer mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like ‘yeah, I’ll believe that when you start acting like it’ and turned back to his watch.

“What was that?” Prowl asked.

“Nothing.”

Bluestreak glanced over. “He has a point.”

Prowl raised an eyebrow and looked between them. “Well, as much as it brightens my spark to know you two finally agree on something, you’re both wrong.”

Bluestreak sighed and turned back to the valley.

Springer nudged him with his shoulder, surprisingly gentle. “Please don’t ever agree with me on anything ever again. Ever.”

Bluestreak sighed and looked up just in time to catch the Seeker headed straight for them. “Whoa!”

All three jumped to their feet as Giacoso landed in the middle of their camp in root mode. He put one hand on his hips and pointed a finger of the other at Prowl. “Are you spying on us?”

Prowl blinked in shock. “No...?”

Bluestreak buried his head in his hand and Springer looked up to the sky as if to beg it to give him any measure of strength it could spare.

“Oh,” Giacoso said. “Okay. What are you doing?”

“Camping,” Springer said before Prowl could give them away.

“Oh, hey, I know you!” Giacoso beamed and ran up to Springer, having to stare nearly straight up to look him in the optics. “Ri said you’re a triple-changer, like me! Wanna race? Camping isn’t fun without games, but you probably know that already. What games are you playing?”

“How about you come back later?” Bluestreak asked. “I’m sure Thundercracker’s waiting for you.”

“Oh, right!”

“Giacoso,” Prowl called before the sparkling could take off. “Don’t tell anyone we’re here, alright? The Autobots don’t let mechs have much fun, so we’re hiding our camping trip.”

Coso nodded, completely serious. “Okay. I won’t tell anyone, not even Ri.” And then he was gone.

“You’re right,” Bluestreak said, once he was sure the flyer was out of audial range.

Prowl raised an eyebrow.

Bluestreak nodded in Coso’s direction. “He looks exactly like Jazz, just with wings and darker plating.”

Prowl in-vented deeply. “So it wasn’t just in my head.”

* * *

Coso sped into the dining area, just shy of transforming into his alt mode for even more speed.

Jazz laughed and drew out two energon cubes for them. “Hungry?”

Coso nodded. “I’m ready!”

“Hands washed? Whatever’s on them is going to end up in your intake, you know.”

Coso held up his digits for inspection. “Each and every servo sparkling clean!”

Jazz shook his head. “Alright, here you go.” His eyes went wide as Coso proceeded to guzzle down as much fuel as he could. “Hold up, slow down, little one, you’ll make yourself purge.”

Coso put down his cube and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Do the Autobots really not let anybody have fun?”

Jazz raised an eyebrow. “Who told you that?”

“Skywarp,” Coso said, not even hesitating.

Jazz sighed. “Of course, he did. Well, depends on your definition of fun.”

“Camping?”

“Definitely not. We were at war, couldn’t spare the mechs for that kind of vacation.”

“And now?” Coso asked, taking a healthy gulp of his fuel.

Jazz shook his head. “You know I haven’t been an Autobot since before the war ended.”

“Oh, right.” Coso took another swallow of feul. “Can I go play outside after this? Thundercracker said I’m good enough for short flights by myself.”

Jazz sighed, not really having a reason to say no that he actually wanted to share with his bitlet. “Yeah, alright. Stay where you can see the main building, though, kay?”

“Kay.” Coso gulped down the rest of his feul and ran for the door. “Bye, Ri! Love you!”

* * *

“So are we kidnapping him?” Springer asked, sharpening his sword.

Bluestreak glanced at him out the corner of his eye. “Even if we are, you won’t be using that to do it.”

Springer pointed the blade at him. “Please remember that I have four million years more combat experience than you. Equipment repair is vital, whether it’s in constant use or no.”

“Safety circle,” Prowl snapped.

Springer put down his blade, continuing its maintenance, and Bluestreak moved a few paces farther from him.

Prowl sighed. “We’re not kidnapping him.” He paused and tilted his head. “We’re not _planning_ on kidnapping him. We don’t know when the Seekers will get back, and if we’re discovered, he’s our best bargaining chip. It’s a contingency, and we will give him back the moment it is safe to do so.”

Bluestreak and Springer shared an equally wry look.

Bluestreak looked back up at the sound of engines. “He’s coming back.”

Springer put away his sword and stood, steeling himself for the youngling’s exuberance.

* * *

Coso landed in the middle of the Autobots’ camp, arms spread wide as he gave a little bow. “Ta-da!”

Prowl smiled gently. “Well done.”

Coso grinned, bouncing on his feet. “Can we race now?”

“In this terrain?” Springer asked. “I’d have to fly below the trees in order to keep out of Autobot sight, and that’s just not a good idea.”

Coso tilted his head. “Why not?”

Springer sighed and transformed into his rotary mode and then back into root mode.

“Oh,” Coso said. “Yeah, I see. You might hurt the trees. Have you ever played Mario Kart?”

Springer shook his head. “I’ve never played games.”

“Oh,” Bluestreak said, snapping his fingers, “that explains it.”

“It being...?” Springer growled.

“The stick up your-”

Prowl smacked a hand over Bluestreak’s mouth, shaking his head sternly.

Coso gaped. “Never played games? Not even when you were a sparkling?”

Springer shook his head. “I wasn’t a sparkling for very long, I got reformatted into an adult before I was even your age.”

“Oh,” Coso said. “Okay, so Mario Kart is actually a video game Ri and I like to play, but I got him to play it in real life once and it was awesome. So it’s basically just a race, but instead of it being about who comes in first at the end, it’s based on points. Every three laps is its own race. You get ten points for coming in first, eight points for coming in second, and six points for coming in third. Whoever has the most points after twelve laps wins.”

“That sounds fun.” Prowl glanced around the camp, looking for a flat surface that would make a good track. “So is your Ri a triple-changer, too?”

Coso laughed. “No, he’s a grounder. I’m a triple-changer cause he needed extra nanites for my frame, and the Seekers are the only ones who would help, so I have some of their coding.”

“Does that mean none of them are your spark-sires?”

“Nope. Skywarp says my Sa was an Autobot, probably one with a real stick up his aft to not want to take responsibility.”

Prowl raised an eyebrow.

Coso spread his hands innocently. “What? It’s what he said, not me.”

Prowl sighed. “If your sire was an Autobot, does that mean your carrier was, too?”

Coso nodded. “That’s why we’re hiding. It’s the same reason you’re camping – Autobots don’t let people have fun. And, well, I’m the funnest.” He struck a pose, grinning, and it was so reminiscent of Jazz it had Prowl’s spark churning in its chamber.

“Most fun,” he corrected, mumbling under his breath. “Well,” he said out loud, “it’s not much of a track, but there’s just enough room around the camp to play... Mario Kart, was it?”

Coso nodded, optics wide with glee.

“I’ll referee, and how about a line right... here?” He pointed to the ground beneath his feet.

Coso whooped and lined up. “The referee is called Lakitu,” he stopped to inform Prowl before dropping into his sleek racing alt mode.

Prowl glanced meaningfully at Springer and Bluestreak.

Sighing, the two of them also dropped into their alt modes, lining up at Prowl’s feet and waiting for his signal.

“On your marks.... Get ready.... Get set.... And go!”

* * *

Starscream took point on the flight home, as was his right as Winglord, sulking.

“That minibot had bearings,” Skywarp said. “I mean, you have to give him that.”

Starscream grumbled wordlessly.

“We’ll need to start working on the solar harvester the minute we get home.”

“I know.”

“You could patent it and sell it, wouldn’t that show that Primus-forsaken piece of frelling slag! Yeah, that old warframe you refused to serve? Guess who just solved the energon crisis!”

“Language,” Thundercracker, Dirge, and Ramjet chorused before Starscream could work himself into a proper tizzy over being called old.

“Yes, Ri.” Skywarp transformed and flipped over, flying backwards so he could face his wingmates. “Coso’s not here.”

“And when he is here, you’re just as bad,” Thundercracker pointed out. “You’re teaching him entirely inappropriate human slang, too. Do you know what he said to me this morning when I told him he was going to upset the wrong mech one of these days – one that stress-shoots instead of stress-bakes?”

“Yes,” Skywarp deadpanned. “You told me when we left. And when we were in the air. And when we were at the depot. And – hey, what’s that?”

“You’re not getting out of this conversation so – hey!”

Skywarp transformed and dove towards the dust he’d seen, peering through it to see three grounders racing in a circle, not nearly far enough from their home. “Autobots!”

* * *

Springer and Bluestreak ground to a halt as the sound of high-performance flight engines drew closer and ever louder.

Coso drifted showily over the finish line and transformed, raising his hands above his head. “I win!”

Prowl glanced up at the sky, waiting.

Coso frowned, glancing between them all. “It’s just the Seekers. They’re back from town.”

Bluestreak picked up his rifle, nestling it in his shoulder.

Springer took out his sword.

Prowl held out a hand, gesturing for them to wait.

Skywarp dove straight for them, the whine of his teleportation drive onlining audible even over the sound of his engine. In a flash, he disappeared, then reappeared, slamming into Bluestreak from behind and sending the smaller sniper sprawling.

Then the rest of the Seekers were on them.

“Springer!” Prowl yelled, acid rifle in hand.

Springer pounced on Coso, transforming around him and belting him securely into his passenger bay.

“Wait - What are you doing?” Coso yelled.

Springer took off, heading for the clear blue of the sky above and then setting a course for Autobot City. “Getting you away from the fight.”

“But that’s my family! They would never hurt me!”

“Accidents happen.”

“No! I can’t leave my Ri!”

Behind them, Dirge rose into the sky, gaining distance quickly.

“Slag,” Springer cursed. He whirled around, priming his weapons systems.

“Wait, don’t hurt him!”

Springer’s missile hit the conehead straight-on, crumpling his nosecone and dropping him out of the sky.

Coso burst into tears. “Why? Why did you do that?!”

“He’s a Decepticon, kid,” Springer said. “He would’ve killed us both just to prevent me from having you.”

“There aren’t any more Decepticons,” Coso wept. “The Autobots won the war, so now there are only Autobots.”

Springer snorted. “That’s not the way it works.”

“But he didn’t do anything to you!”

Springer tightened his seatbelt in warning. “Look, I’m not Prowl or Bluestreak, I don’t have patience for sparklings. I’m going to take us to Autobot City where it’s safe, and you’re going to stay quiet and sit still until we get there, okay?”

Coso immediately quieted to whimpers and sniffles. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, sufficiently scared silent, at least for a moment. “He baked me energon goodies.”

Springer said nothing, focused on his flying.

“I want to go home.”

* * *

The minute he heard the blaster fire, Jazz was out the door and headed for the ridge. He arrived to see an all-out skirmish between five Seekers and two Praxians. Ignoring long dormant protocols that listed Prowl and Bluestreak as allies, he jumped into the fray, going for the spark with a vengeance.

It was only when his claws were halfway sunk into Prowl’s chest, that his former lover looked up and really saw him.

Prowl stared in shock for a moment, then his expression schooled itself into neutrality. “If you ever want to see your creation again, you’ll let us go – both of us.”

Ice-cold terror shot through Jazz’ lines. “Where is he?”

Prowl smiled ruefully. “I’m not an amateur, Jazz. He’ll be safe and he’ll be treated well, that’s all you need to know.”

“And what do you want in exchange for giving him back to me?” Jazz demanded.

Prowl shook him off and stood. “I’ll get back to you on that.” He nodded to Bluestreak, where he was being held immobile by Thrust, one doorwing dislocated and the other smoking. “We’ll be leaving now.”

For a tense moment, no one moved.

“Jazz,” Prowl said, warning. “Think of Giacoso.”

Jazz nodded to Thrust, who released Bluestreak with a shove. “You’ll give me back my sparkling,” Jazz said, more than a touch desperate. “You wouldn’t do that to me. You’re good at doing what it takes to win, but you’re not heartless. You’re not cruel, no matter how much you want people to think otherwise.”

Prowl paused, as if considering it, then turned those cold optics back on the mech he’d once called lover. “I’ll get back to you,” he promised. “Can you transform?” he asked Bluestreak.

Blue nodded.

“Good.” Prowl stood straight. “Do not pursue us, not even to find your downed comrade. Wait until nightfall.”

“You fragger,” Ramjet snarled. “He could be bleeding out for all you know.”

“He could,” Prowl agreed. “You will wait until nightfall.”

Jazz nodded, shaking. The two Praxians left, and he fell to his knees, five Seekers immediately moving in to check him for injuries.

* * *

Springer pinged Metroplex for landing clearance and immediately set a course for the hangar nearest medbay. He turned his sensors on the sparkling in his hold, noting the shaking and the absolute silence, not even the constant whir of running systems.

He landed and, a touch more gently than his typical _modus operandi_, nudged Giacoso out of his passenger bay. The sparkling didn't transform, didn't try to run away. Springer switched back to root mode and grasped his hand, pulling him through the base.

Swoop was the medic on-duty, and Springer was somewhat grateful for the presence of a fellow flyer. “I can't hear his systems,” he said, picking Giacoso up and dumping him on a berth unceremoniously. “He didn't get hit in the firefight, so I think he might be in shock.”

Swoop chirred in concern and moved in with a scanner. After several tense seconds, he shook his head. “Me Swoop no see nothing wrong.”

Giacoso glanced up in surprise and opened his mouth as if to say something, then shut it with a nervous look in Springer’s direction.

“You can talk now,” the other triple-changer said, trying and failing to sound anything less than annoyed nearly to the breaking point.

Coso’s systems whirred to life and he turned back to Swoop. “Why do you talk like that?”

Swoop twittered, slightly distressed, but explained. “Me Swoop and me Swoop’s brothers use Earth English words in Cybertron Iaconian order of words.”

“Oh,” Coso said. “That’s cool. Why?”

Swoop shrugged, trying to fit his words together. “Me Swoop and me Swoop’s brothers have hard time learning. Two languages too much, they turn into one in me Swoop’s brain.”

“Oh. Do you know any Cybertronian words?”

“Sometimes me Swoop do. Sometimes do you do?”

Coso nodded. “My Ri taught me some Hexian and Praxian, but not Iaconian.”

Swoop’s wings twitched in awe. “Three languages sound very too hard.”

“Yeah…,” Coso sighed. “I’m not that good at it yet.”

Springer huffed.

Coso glanced at him, and then back at Swoop. “Are you a medic?”

“Me Swoop am.”

“Can I ask you something? In secret? In, um…, confidentially?”

Swoop nodded and leaned down so the sparkling could whisper in his audial. After a moment, he straightened and walked over to Springer, looming. “Me Swoop need ask you Springer to leave now.”

“What?” Springer growled, spreading his stance, readying for a fight.

Swoop growled and fluffed up his plating. “You Springer need to leave now. Now, or me Swoop be forced to ask other Dinobot brothers to help make you Springer leave.”

Springer rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he said. He glared sharply at Coso and left out the door for the main road, intending to wait for Prowl and Bluestreak to return.

* * *

“What are your brothers like?” Coso asked, kicking his legs.

Swoop smiled gently. “Them have brains made of beryllium baloney, me Swoop thinks, but me Swoop love them. You have brothers?” he asked, twitching his head to the side in interest.

Coso shook his head. “I don’t even have a Sa. I probably don’t have a Ri anymore, either.” He curled his knees up to his chest and tried not to cry.

Swoop sat next to him and put a giant hand on his head, rubbing gently. “You want to tell me Swoop about what happened to you?”

Coso wiped his face, sniffling. “We were playing, and then my family came back, and he just took me. And then he shot Dirge. Dirge was the nicest, he made me treats. He stress-baked and I stressed him out a lot and we had a system that worked, and he shot him and now he might be dead, and I don’t know what the other two are doing. I thought Prowl was really nice, but he’s not, he took me away from my Ri.”

Swoop hummed.

“Skywarp was right. Autobots are slag-suckers.”

Swoop rubbed his back gently. “Me Swoop make sure you see Ri again. Me go all the way to talk to him Optimus Prime if me Swoop have to. Me Swoop promise to you.”

Coso looked up, lip wobbling. “Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise,” Swoop said, wiping away the sparkling's tears. “You want to meet me Swoop’s Dinobot brothers?”

Coso nodded. “Please?”

Swoop grinned and stood. “Me Swoop almost done with me Swoop’s medical shift. Me Swoop show you to them after. Them be called him Grimlock, him Slag, him Snarl, and him Sludge. Him Snarl be me Swoop’s twin Dinobot brother.”

“That’s cool,” Coso sniffled. “… Me be called him Coso.”

Swoop tensed at the mimicry, waiting for the mockery that usually followed, then nodded, smiling, when it didn’t come. “Me Swoop be pleased to meet you Coso.”

* * *

Jazz waited off to the side of the clearing, tracking the sun as it inched toward the horizon.

The Seekers, satisfied that he was uninjured, had moved off to carve out their own small territories. Starscream, Thundercracker, and Skywarp stood equidistant around the perimeter, keeping watch for another attack. Ramjet and Thrust pointed like bloodhounds deeper into the forest, presumably where their trine mate lay injured.

“Can you tell if he’s alive?”

Skittish, Thrust jumped around, optics hunting all over before coming to rest, relieved, on the grounder they’d all adopted. “He’s alive,” he said, touching his chestplates directly over his spark. “He’s offline, but he’s alive, for now.”

Jazz nodded. “We’ll get him back.”

Thrust smiled gratefully. “You, too.”

Jazz settled back down, keeping track of the sun with only a portion of his processing power. The rest of it was dedicated to coming up with a plan.

First, they’d need more allies.

* * *

“Where is he?” Prowl asked, transforming the nanoklik he felt Cybertronian metal under his tires.

Springer shrugged. “Swoop was on duty when I came in, the little scraplet asked him to make me leave. Last I heard, he was the Dinobots’ new best friend.”

Prowl glanced back at Bluestreak and nodded.

Bluestreak pushed past Springer, heading deeper into the base.

“You came here to wait for us instead of outside the medbay, standing guard over your assigned civilian,” Prowl said, scowling.

“He was safe,” Springer said. “Protocol is to report to the commanding officer.”

“Protocol is to stay where I tell you,” Prowl snapped. “When we are conducting a mission, sanctioned or otherwise, I am your commanding officer and you do what I tell you. My orders were to stay with Giacoso.”

“I don’t think ‘Springer’ qualifies as an order.”

“You know very well we discussed it beforehand-”

“Barely.”

“And you do not get special treatment because you are my creation!”

“Yeah,” Springer crossed his arms, “that at least is abundantly clear.”

The two stared at each other.

Behind Springer, someone cleared their throat. “I hate to get in the middle of what is clearly a family matter, but what’s this about Giacoso?”

Prowl peered around his much larger creation to see Mirage, and he lunged.

* * *

Predictably, Thrust and Ramjet were the first to find Dirge. His helm was dented and sparking, and his optics were shattered. It was a mercy he was offline, in Starscream’s opinion.

“We’ll have to get a stretcher,” he said, turning to his trinemates. “Skywarp, in my lab. Bring me the heavy duty pain patches as well. Thundercracker, help me do what I can here.” He pulled a first aid kit out of his subspace, the one unofficially designated for Giacoso, and crouched down next to his fellow Seeker. “I’m going to remove the optic glass before they can pierce too deep,” he said.

Ramjet nodded and moved aside, pulling Thrust with him so their Winglord could work.

Starscream scowled as he transformed his hand into tweezers. Thank Primus science and medical mods were so similar. He gently plucked the glass away, noting sensor damage as he went. His olfactory strayed too close to the Conehead’s no longer coned head and he took a deep whiff of what was undoubtedly long-rage ballistics. “Missiles,” he reported. “Thankfully not nuclear, or we’d all have radiation poisoning now.” He glanced back at Jazz. “You have magnetic capabilities, correct?”

Jazz nodded, stepping to the side right as Skywarp warped back in exactly where he had been standing. “That’s right. What do you need me to do?”

Starscream gestured at Dirge’s head. “Do what you can. I’m not expecting miracles.”

“Any processor damage?” Skywarp asked, laying the stretcher down surprisingly gently.

Starscream shook his head. “Can’t tell. It’s possible.” He flung the last of the glass away. “Let’s get him on the stretcher. Skywarp, take Jazz to the medbay and get everything you know how set up for when we arrive. It’ll be safest for him if we go on foot.”

He took up one end of the stretcher, and Ramjet took the other. The two trine leaders nodded at each other and then started on their way.

As they walked, Starscream casually queued Soundwave’s comm frequency up in his list of priorities. The rest of his processor was devoted to his patient, cataloguing injuries and thinking up solutions. If there was processor damage, he was in no way qualified to repair it. He queued Ratchet’s frequency above Soundwave’s. The retired old medic might be a former Autobot, but he was the best on Earth or Cybertron.

When they arrived at the lab, Starscream and Ramjet gently laid Dirge on the single berth and then Ramjet left to comfort his other trine mate, while Starscream got to work, Jazz and Thundercracker alongside him.

Together, they cleaned up spilled energon and hooked up a drip to replace it. Jazz pulled out dents, Starscream welded breaks and tears, and Thundercracker readied replacement components for the moment the worst of the damage was repaired and Starscream asked for them.

Hours later, with a smug sort of relief, Starscream dismissed Ratchet’s comm frequency from his HUD along with the possibility of a new and permanent disability. With the Autobots being so stingy, that wouldn’t be safe for anyone.

Finally, he sat back, all parts replaced or repaired. Ramjet and Thrust ran in to sit vigil until their trine mate woke, and Starscream pulled Jazz to the side. “I assume you have a plan?”

Jazz nodded. “I’m working on it. First of all, we need someone who can find out where they took him. A communications specialist, maybe, to take a look at their comm chatter.”

Starscream nodded. “Or a hacker.”

The two of them shared a look.

“No,” Starscream said, putting his proverbial foot down. “Not a chance. I can do one of them, but not both. Not by all the metal on Cybertron.”

“We need them both,” Jazz stressed.

“I can’t stand them! You haven’t had to deal with it! Honestly, we know you’re in love, get a room!”

Jazz stared him down. “He’s my friend. And if I’m coming back from the dead to rescue my sparkling from his crazy-aft sire, I want him by my side.”

Starscream stared back for a moment, then groaned and stomped out of the room with all the dramatics he could muster. A bit down the hall, he backtracked to yell through the door “If the turbopuppy optics are cheating when Coso does it, they’re cheating when you do it, too!”

Jazz laughed.

* * *

Prowl sat in the brig, optics shuttered, hands clasped over his bumper.

“So, I hear you almost killed Mirage.”

Prowl sprang up, standing at attention and looking Optimus in the optics. “He withheld vital information, sir.”

Optimus just looked disappointed. “That has never and will never be an excuse for physical violence. As my most senior officer, I expect you to know that and to be an example to the rest of the troops.”

“The information was of a personal nature as well as professional,” Prowl said, desperate to explain.

Optimus simply raised an eyebrow.

Prowl bowed his head. “Yes, sir. It won’t happen again.”

Optimus nodded. “See that it doesn’t.” He sighed and pulled over a chair, easing down onto it with the creak of aching struts. The war and Jazz’ subsequent disappearance had aged them all.

Prowl’s doorwings trembled with his rage and hurt.

“Now,” Optimus said. “What information did Mirage withhold?”

“He lied,” Prowl reported. “Jazz is alive. He lives in the complex Mirage was sent to investigate with six seekers – both the Elite and Conehead Trines. The sparkling which Springer brought back to base is his.”

Optimus shuttered his optics and massaged his nasal ridge. “Mirage will be dealt with. You stole Jazz’ sparkling?”

Prowl sighed. “There was a firefight. The Seekers instigated, and I ordered Springer to take the sparkling to safety.”

Optimus nodded and stood. “I’ll need to get ahold of Starscream and negotiate for the safe return of the sparkling. We’ll likely need to sacrifice other supplies to prevent another war.”

“With all due respect, sir, I don’t think we should do that.”

“Why?” Optimus asked. “_You_ don’t think a sparkling should be returned to its creator? Do you have a reason beyond a personal vendetta?”

Prowl smiled wryly. “We both know I’m incapable of that.”

Optimus barked a laugh. “And we both know that’s a lie. Tell me your reasoning.”

Prowl sighed. “Jazz went missing before the war ended. I now know he broke our bond and cavorted off with the Seekers to raise our sparkling, and the only thing that kept me looking was the fact that there was no body and Megatron never called to gloat. This also means he defected. He defected to the Decepticons and that makes him a war criminal, he should face trial for it like all the rest of the Decepticons did.”

“We have no proof he defected. No proof the rash of Decepticon victories right after his disappearance wasn’t simply due to the absence of one of our highest ranking commanders rather than any new intel the Decepticons had.”

“That’s the point of a trial,” Prowl pointed out. “And he still deserted.”

Optimus groaned, then looked up, frowning thoughtfully. “What makes you think the sparkling is yours?”

Prowl fidgeted uncomfortably. “I – I have no evidence,” he finally said, “just a hunch which may or may not be my tactical computer working faster than I can follow it. Will you allow Perceptor to obtain and scan a CNA sample?”

Optimus nodded. “That I can do.” He stood, stretching his back. “You’ll remain here for a decacycle. Your meals will be brought to you and your duties will be reassigned.”

“I understand,” Prowl said, turning back to the narrow berth.

“Prowl,” Optimus called. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. And for what it’s worth, I do believe there is something – or several somethings – going on that we do not yet understand. The Jazz I knew would never just pack up and abandon you.”

Prowl nodded slowly, stringing his words together inside his head before speaking them aloud. “The Jazz I knew would never do that either. But did any of us really know Jazz?”

* * *

Blaster groaned as the sound of someone banging on the door filtered up to his berthroom. “It’s your turn to get up.”

The arm around his waist tightened and Soundwave leaned down to nuzzle the back of his neck. “Turns were only negotiated for situations regarding the sparkling.”

Blaster huffed and pressed his face into his pillow. The banging on the door only increased.

“Solution,” Soundwave said, pressing small kisses up Blaster’s neck cables.

“I’m listening.”

“Ignore it.” Soundwave pressed their mouths together and slipped his glossa out to play with his conjunx’s, rocking his hips against Blaster’s thigh in short, gentle thrusts.

Blaster sighed and pulled away, getting up out of the berth. “It’s probably urgent with the way they’re going on about it.”

Soundwave rolled on his back, spreading his legs and putting on an air of great impatience. “I will be here.”

Blaster laughed and leaned down to kiss his conjunx’ nose. “Let’s not go about making another one just yet, hm?”

Soundwave huffed. “You lack faith.”

“Trust me,” Blaster said, chuckling, “that’s the one thing we don’t need.”

Soundwave rolled his eyes fondly. “Come back soon.”

Blaster kissed him one last time and went to answer the goddamned door. He stopped by Ratbat’s cradle, making sure his littlest creation slept on undisturbed, and then made his way down the stairs. He stopped in shock when he noticed his visitors through the window.

There was a ghost outside, backed up by six different Seekers.

He ran down the stairs, throwing open the door.

“I know it’s late,” Jazz said, “but I need help-”

Blaster punched him.

Jazz went sprawling on the porch, then sat himself up carefully. “I deserved that.”

“You’re goddamned right you did!” Blaster yelled. “I thought you were dead!”

Thin, reedy cries came from inside the house.

Blaster sighed. “Great, you woke the baby. Well,” he held out a hand to help his friend to his feet, “get your afts inside. It’s freezing out.”

Blaster and Soundwave’s Earth-style home was large, commissioned to fit thirty-eight permanent residents – themselves and a full cohort of cassettes for each of them – and plenty of guests of all frame types in the aftermath of one of Blaster’s famous parties (now significantly more child-friendly). The six Seekers had no problem finding comfortable seats in the front room – famously able to fit even Omega Supreme, though he might have trouble getting through the front door – and Blaster sat across from them, facing his friend.

“So,” he said, trying to come up with an appropriate greeting, “what’s up?”

The question was so Blaster in delivery, and so insultingly casual for what was going on, that Jazz’ only response was to burst into laughter and then into tears.

Soundwave awkwardly entered the room, cradling Ratbat to his chest, clearly discomfited by the sight of a weeping, formerly thought to be dead Autobot in his living room.

Blaster put a hand on Jazz’ shoulder and simply waited. After a series of long moments, where he was certain the Seekers were about to kill him, Jazz finally pulled back, wiping away his tears.

Jazz took a moment to even his vents and he looked up, immediately noticing Ratbat. “You got a little one of your own now?”

Blaster laughed. “This one is number five for us, with one on the way, and always one in the works,” he teased, looking over at his conjunx.

Soundwave smiled and crossed over, kissing Blaster and handing him the sparkling before settling next to him on the couch and kissing him again.

“Primus,” Jazz said, “Starscream was right. You two are _sickeningly_ cute.”

“Thank you!” Starscream huffed, throwing his hands in the air. “I swear, every time you’re separated for five minutes, it might as well be five million years the way you-ˮ

Soundwave quieted him with a look.

Jazz took a deep breath, drawing attention back to him as he rubbed his hands together nervously. “I need your help, mech.”

Blaster frowned. “Okay. What do you need?”

“The Autobots took my bitlet,” Jazz explained. “Mirage came in, doing some recon and promised to keep it from Prowl, but I taught that mech how to lie and I should’ve known better. We should’ve moved the minute they all got back from the parade, and now Coso’s gone. They haven’t made any demands yet. I... I don’t think they’re gonna.”

Blaster and Soundwave exchanged a look.

“I was hoping you two could help us find him. I know you’re all sick of war and everything, so I won’t ask you to fight, but just... help me find him?”

“Sparklings are a different matter,” Soundwave said, solemnly.

Blaster nodded and turned back to Jazz. “We’ll help with all of it. We have this nifty ingrained feature where we can tuck our sparklings in a box of blastproof glass if we have to. But, mech, I gotta tell you, it sure does seem like Prowl’s been slowly driving off the deep end since you disappeared.”

Jazz nodded, running his hands over his helm. “I just wanted what was best for Coso, and the war and a sire who hated him... that wasn’t it.”

Blaster frowned. “I can’t imagine Prowl hating his own sparkling, not after everything he went through to get him back.”

“He doesn’t know Coso is-”

“Not him,” Blaster interrupted. “Springer.”

Jazz looked up in confusion.

Blaster’s eyes went wide. “That’s right, that was after you left. Have you seen Springer? Green triple-changer, rotary and ground-based alt modes?”

“The one who shot me,” Dirge said quietly.

Blaster winced. “He’s Prowl’s from early in the war. Had a conjunx back then named Metha-something.”

“Mesothulas?” Jazz asked. 

Blaster nodded. “That’s the one.”

“I know about Mesothulas, what’s that got to do with-” Jazz stopped and buried his face in his hands. “He and Mesothulas had a sparkling together?”

“Yeah,” Blaster said. “Then rumor has it, Prowl was ordered to give the bitlet up. Ordered! Can you believe it? That was before OP managed to wrest control from the Senate, so I’m sure it was because he was cold-constructed or some nonsense like that.”

“Not the reason,” Soundwave said, “but close enough.”

Blaster shrugged. “Anyway, then right before the war ends, his sparkling shows up on Earth – he's been reformatted and wiped, but a CNA test proves what Prowl’s spark knows and what he’s been trying to tell everybody. Then it turns out Mesothulas escaped whatever hole he’d been thrown in and reformatted himself into some techno-organic type. He kidnaps Springer and goes all Darth Vader on him-” he looked up at the Seekers’ confused faces. “Y’know - ‘Luke, I am your father’, ‘join me and together we can rule the galaxy as father and son’? No? Y’all’re missing out on some sweet Earth culture. Meanwhile, Prowl’s mobilizing the whole goddamn army and Ultra Magnus is on his ass like ‘we can’t sacrifice everyone for just one soldier’ and Prowl just looks him straight in the optics and goes ‘if I don’t fight for my family, I have no business fighting this Primus damned war from any command position, so if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to do my job, I strongly suggest you do yours’.” He paused and tilted his head. “Are you sure you haven’t heard this? It’s how we ended the war. Springer’s probably still all butthurt that he’s gonna be framed as either the damsel in distress or the helpless sparkling in need of rescue until all are slagging one. I mean, I would be, too, and I’m not even next in line to command the Wreckers. Imagine the image that mech’s gotta keep. Probably needs one hell of a PR guy.”

Jazz buried his face in his hands.

“Jazz?” Thundercracker asked.

Jazz shook his head. “And that time on Trappist-I when he told a sparkling to his face that he was a drain on resources?”

Blaster handed Ratbat back to his conjunx and crossed over to kneel in front of his friend. “Aw, mech.... That story has been told and retold and embellished and misheard since before you even signed up with us. If you ask Bumblebee, he’ll tell you Prowl just said he couldn’t have the local megafauna for a pet aboard the Ark because of the drain on resources, but if he got Hound to help him, he could still have a turbopuppy. Stinger the Stinker lived a good, long life, too.”

Jazz trembled and let himself be pulled into a hug. “Everything I was afraid of is nothing at all. I did exactly what I vowed I would never do and ran off, abandoning him, because of things other people said about him.”

“Still wanna attack him?” Blaster asked.

Jazz pulled back, optics blazing white. “Frell, yes,” he snarled. “He took my sparkling.”

Blaster nodded. “A’ight. Let’s get planning.” He stood, and the others followed his example.

Jazz ran a hand down his face. “Coso better be in one piece when we get there.”

* * *

Coso laughed as Grimlock picked him up by the head again, so carefully and gently so as not to even dent plating with those sharp teeth of his. “This is fun.”

Grimlock huffed hot air over his helm and set him back down in the pile of sleeping Dinobots before answering. “You Coso go back to sleep now.”

Coso crossed his arms and pouted. “Me Coso not be sleepy. You Grimlock play with me Coso now.”

Grimlock growled and nudged Coso with his nose until he fell over backwards, then laid down, wrapping his tail around him like a fence. “Me Grimlock will be playing with you Coso in morning. When sun is being asleep, Dinobots be asleep, even you Coso who is only honorary Dinobot. When sun is being awake, then Dinobots be awake. Me Grimlock say so, and me Grimlock King.”

Coso panted with effort as he climbed up over Grimlock’s shoulder to look him in the eye. “Why? Why you Grimlock is being King?”

Grimlock cracked one eye open. “Because me Grimlock strongest Dinobot. Strongest Autobot except for him Optimus Prime, too.”

“So...,” Coso said, “if I – me Coso – beat you Grimlock in fight, Dinobots no have to have no bedtime no more?”

Grimlock looked up and then back down, huffing in clear dismissal. “You Coso not strong enough to beat me Grimlock in fight.”

Coso stood straight, wings fluttering in excitement and righteous indignation. “Me Coso am too strong enough to beat you Grimlock in fight! Me Coso fight you Grimlock right now!”

Grimlock grumbled but stood. “If me Grimlock win, you Coso go to sleep?”

“Yes,” Coso said immediately, nodding like a bobble-head. “If you Grimlock win, me Coso go to sleep.”

Grimlock huffed but moved to the middle of the floor and stomped his foot three times, shaking the entire room.

The other Dinobots woke up in various shades of sleep-deprived and grumpy.

“What?” Snarl snarled, snarly, living up to his name.

“Me Grimlock and him Coso fight now,” Grimlock said. “If me Grimlock win, me Grimlock still King and him Coso go to sleep. If him Coso win, him Coso King and Dinobots no have to have no bedtime no more.”

“But me Sludge like having bedtime,” Sludge whined.

“You Dinobots be quiet!” Grimlock snapped. “King gets to decide what Dinobots do, and me Grimlock King! Me Grimlock say me Grimlock and him Coso fight now!”

Swoop sighed and flapped his wings. “You Grimlock and you Coso fight now so us Dinobots can go back to bed when you Grimlock win.”

Coso pouted.

“_If_ you Grimlock win,” Swoop corrected himself.

Coso preened. “Me Coso ready now.”

Grimlock grunted and stepped up.

“You ready?” Swoop asked. “You set? And now… you go!”

Coso immediately transformed into his flight mode and flew straight at Grimlock’s face, launching flares at his broad nose. While his opponent was blinded, he transformed back to root mode and slammed his shoulder into his throat, pitching him over backwards.

Grimlock hit the floor and stayed there, whining and rubbing his nose.

The other Dinobots stared in shock.

“You Coso King,” Swoop said, somewhat dumbly.

Coso grinned. “You Swoop help him Grimlock’s nose not be hurting no more. Him Grimlock Prime Minister now. You Dinobots do what him Grimlock Prime Minister tell you to unless me Coso say different. Me Coso say so because me Coso King!”

Grimlock sat up, letting Swoop treat the superficial burns and reset his optics. “Me Grimlock okay with being Prime Minister I guess. What you Coso say we Dinobots do?”

Coso clapped his hands. “Me Coso say we Dinobots go to rec room and eat energon goodies, and then we Dinobots play football!”

Grimlock shook his head. “Him Optimus Prime say we Dinobots not allowed to play no football no more because we Dinobots cause too much property damage.”

Coso thought for a moment, then struck what he was sure was an authoritative pose. “Then we Dinobots play another game instead. Me Coso have an idea!”

* * *

_Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud screeeeeech.... _

_Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud screeeeeech.... _

_Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud-thud crash! _

Perceptor shot upright and dashed for the door, barely remember his targeting reticule in his rush to see what kind of attack was happening this time, his berth partner barely a nanoklik behind him. Once in the hall, he was almost trampled by running Dinobots. That would be the thuds.

“Red light!” Slag called.

And there was the screech....

“Green light!”

Ah, there was the crash, as Grimlock tackled his brother to the floor, sending his passenger flying.

“Grimlock!” Perceptor called. “What are you doing up at this time of night?”

Grimlock looked up, optics unnaturally bright. “Oh, hello, you Perceptor,” he said, walking up and wrapping his jaws gently around Perceptor’s head, as he always greeted people in Dino form. “Me Grimlock not King anymore, me Grimlock Prime Minister now. Him Coso King.” He pointed to the sparkling that had been riding on his back and was now sitting on the floor, frowning at his ankle.

Perceptor sighed and made his way over to check the damage.

“Hey,” Grimlock said. “What you Cosmos doing in him Perceptor’s berth room?”

Cosmos cleared his throat and looked over at Perceptor. “I’m just going to go.”

Perceptor nodded. “Regretfully, I think that would be best. I look forward to seeing you again soon.”

Cosmos blushed and smiled softly. “Me, too.”

He scurried off, and Perceptor crouched down next to the sparkling. “Hello,” he said, “you must be Giacoso. Are you alright?”

Coso nodded. “I think so. I mean – Me Coso think so. Me Coso not in no pain, but me Coso can’t feel me Coso’s foot.”

Perceptor sighed. “I’m going to need you to repeat that with standard American English grammar, please. I’m afraid my languages modules aren’t quite so... integrated as the Dinobots’.”

“Oh,” Coso said. “I think I’m okay. Nothing hurts, but I can’t feel my foot.”

“Can you move it?” Perceptor asked.

Coso frowned in concentration, then shook his head. “Does it have to be cut off?”

Perceptor laughed and shook his head. “Fortunately, no. It’s likely just an unconnected wire. May I carry you to the medbay to fix it?”

Coso thought, then nodded. “Only if Swoop can come, too.”

“Of course.” Perceptor smiled and scooped up the youngling, gesturing for the youngest Dinobot to follow.

"What happened to your eye?” Coso asked.

"It got shot.”

"Oh, you couldn’t replace it?”

"Well, I probably could now, now that I think about it, but back then resources like replacement parts weren’t so easy to get a hold of. And now, well, I’ve simply gotten used to it.”

"Oh, that makes sense. Why do you talk so funny?”

"This coming from the bot speaking like a Dinobot just a few moments ago?”

"The Dinobots don’t talk funny. The Dinobots talk like they’re using English words and Cybertronian grammar because they are, which makes sense.”

"You're right, of course. Well, I am a scientist, and when I came to Earth for the first time, I wanted to sound like a scientist to the humans. Most of the scientists in their media have either British or German accents, and I liked the British one better. It reminds me of the language I invented when I studied at Nova Cronum on Cybertron.”

“No way! You made up a whole language!?”

"Well, it was still missing a few key components, but, yes.”

"Wow. And, okay, so you talk like you’re British because you like it. That makes sense.”

"I’m glad you think so,” Perceptor said, shouldering open the medbay door. “Here we are,” he set Coso down on the nearest berth, “now let’s take a look at that foot.” He gingerly pulled up the plating and dug around before finding the right wire. “Ah, here we go. And it goes... there. There we go, can you feel it now?”

Coso wiggled his foot around and grinned, hopping off the berth. “Yep! All good!” He looked up with just the biggest optics. “Can I have an energon goodie for being such a well-behaved patient? Starscream gives them to me.”

"I don’t know,” Perceptor said. “Are there any left after you and the Dinobots raided the refectory?”

Coso grinned. “Probably.”

Perceptor sighed. “Very well, but you have to do one more thing for me.”

"Yeah?”

"Well, I was going to do this tomorrow, but I need a sample of your repair nanites. It won’t hurt, but it’ll pinch a little. I have a little tool that will prick your plating and when the nanites come to repair it, it’ll capture some of them and let the rest do their job.”

“Okay,” Coso said, hopping back up on the berth. “What do you need them for?”

“I’m going to try to find out who your sire is,” Perceptor said honestly.

Coso raised an eyebrow. “Do I get to meet him? Ouch!”

Perceptor gently rubbed anti-corrosion gel in the tiny wound just in case. “If what the command staff suspects is true, you already have.”

Coso wrinkled his nose. “Not Springer.”

“No,” Perceptor laughed. “Not Springer.”

“Prowl?” Coso asked.

“It’s possible.”

Coso hummed. “I liked him when he was nice.”

“Usually, he is,” Perceptor said. “Kidnapping you was a deed borne of hurt, I would say. Did you know he used to be conjunxed to your Ri?”

“Really?” Coso asked.

Perceptor nodded. “It hurt him very much when your Ri went away, though I’m sure he had his reasons.”

Coso nodded. “Ri has the best reasons. And if he doesn’t have reasons, then I get to do things.”

“Is that so?” Perceptor asked, smiling. “Alright, you run along, now. Try to sleep or you’ll be too tired to have fun in the morning. I’ll come and tell you when I know who your Sa is.”

“Okay,” Coso said. He hopped back down and held out a hand for Swoop to take. “Me Coso say it time to go to bed now.”

Swoop yawned. “Me Swoop agree with you. We go get other Dinobots?”

Coso nodded. “We go get other Dinobots and then we Dinobots sleep.”

Perceptor smiled as he watched them go, and then turned back to his work. It was the work of moments to set up the test, and then he sat back and watched it run, determined to see it through.

By the time the sun rose, he was on his way to the brig. He rapped smartly on the bars of Prowl’s cell. “I thought you should know before the others,” he said. “I ran it twice, though I barely needed to with how quickly he took over the Dinobots. You were right, Giacoso is your creation.”

Prowl buried his head in his hands. “Another one. I let another one get away.”

“Technically,” Perceptor said. “You kidnapped this one. I daresay his Ri won’t be pleased, and we all know what Jazz is like when he’s not pleased.”

Prowl sighed. “What’s this about the Dinobots?”

“Coso has taken quite a liking to them. He beat Grimlock in fair combat and is now their King, though he allowed Grimlock to stay on as his Prime Minister. He’s done away with their bedtime, and they were playing a human sparkling game in the halls when I met him last night.”

Prowl nodded. “So that’s what that was.”

Perceptor smiled tightly. “Indeed. He really is the best and worst of both you and Jazz.” He sighed and tapped on the datapad in his hand. “I need to report this to Optimus Prime now.”

Prowl leaned back against the wall. “I’ll be here.”

* * *

Jazz watched, lounging, as Soundwave and Blaster worked. “Sickeningly cute” was becoming more sickening by the second, he had to admit. He’d never thought either mech capable of it, but together they were all pet names and inside jokes and twittering and casual touching and kissing and nuzzling and – Jazz shook his head. “Any progress?”

“Someone in Autobot City just filed a report about a new king of the Dinobots,” Blaster reported. “If there was any mech that could do that, I’d bet it would be the offspring of you two.”

Jazz huffed a laugh and shook his head. “Need something more concrete than that, my mech.”

“Here,” Soundwave said, “report filed by Perceptor – CNA analysis matching both Prowl and Jazz. Sample would have to be taken in person.”

Jazz shot to his feet. “Can your little guys get to him? I wanna make sure he’s alright, make sure he knows not to be afraid when we get there.”

Soundwave nodded. “Rumble and Frenzy en route.”

“Okay.” Jazz ran his hands over his helm, pacing. “We need more firepower.”

“Already on it,” Blaster reported. “You still got some friends, mech. Don’t know how Screamer’s gonna get on with Skyfire, but I got you transport and plenty of outraged mechs with a grudge against Prowl and a fondness for sparklings.”

Jazz sighed, smiling with relief. “What would I do without you two?”

Blaster shrugged. “Eh, crash and burn. By the by, Mirage didn’t betray you.”

Jazz looked up sharply.

“Prowl decided to do some unauthorized recon, disguised as taking Blue and Springer on a camping trip for some brotherly bonding. He saw Coso’s resemblance to you and was there to observe him, the fact that the same complex Mirage was supposed to have scoped out during the parade only cemented his suspicions.”

“And then I showed my damn face,” Jazz sighed.

Blaster shrugged. “Is what it is, my mech. Now what’s the plan?”

* * *

“Psst.”

Coso looked up sleepily from the Dinobot pile, looking for whoever was calling.

“Psst, hey! Tiny Autobot! Up here!”

Coso looked up to see two identical faces in the vents. “Me?”

“Yeah, you,” the blue one hissed. “You see any other tiny Autobots in the room? Cause those Dinos are frelling huge.”

Coso frowned. “I’m not an Autobot, and you shouldn’t say frelling.”

The red one waved his hand in the air. “Whatever. Look, we bring a message from your Ri. Mech named Jazz? You know him?”

“Yeah...? Obviously, you just said he’s my Ri.”

“Ooh, I like this one,” the blue one said. “He’s got you beat, Frumble.”

The red one elbowed him. “Shut up, Renzy. Look, he wanted us to tell you that he’s gonna come get you today, but it’s gonna be loud, kinda like in the forest.”

“He’s gonna attack?” Coso asked. “But my friends are all here. I don’t want them to get hurt.”

“Then tell them to get out of the city,” the blue one snarked. “Just remember, the attack’s at four in the afternoon Earth time, right at the shift change.”

“I’ll remember,” Coso said.

“Good, we’re out of here.” The red one nudged the blue one and they turned to leave.

“Bye, Frumble and Renzy!” Coso called, as quietly as he knew how.

The two bots looked at him and raised their eyebrows. “It’s Rumble and Frenzy,” they said in unison, and then they disappeared.

Coso snuggled back down into the Dinobot pile. “Cool....”

* * *

The first shells started hitting the walls of Autobot City at exactly four in the afternoon, while the guards were still visiting with each other rather than going their separate ways and doing their damn jobs. Optimus rushed to the command center and immediately relieved Ironhide of duty so he could rush to the frontlines. “Who’s attacking us?”

“Um...,” Hoist said, staring down at his monitor in shock. He looked up. “Warpath.”

“I have Megatron on the east side,” Inferno reported. “They seem to be having a contest.”

“Two to one odds Megatron wins,” Smokescreen said immediately. “Sixteen to one on Warpath.”

“Hey!” Powerglide called, offended on behalf of his fellow minibot.

Smokescreen shrugged. “Sorry, mech.”

Optimus cleared his throat. “Focus, please, gentlemechs. Are either of them leading the assault?”

Inferno shook his head. “No, sir, no clue who’s calling the shots on this one.”

Optimus hummed disconcertedly and folded his hands under his chin. “Have Red Alert send a few drones out there to set them straight, please. Remind them that this is not only a city they are firing upon, but a fellow Cybertronian who has been kind enough to keep us safe within his walls.”

“Sending the order,” Inferno confirmed.

“Excuse me?”

Optimus turned to see a sparkling. He hadn’t quite believed the rumors that Giacoso looked exactly like Jazz but with wings, so he was shocked at the sight of a miniature version of his old friend. “Can I help you, Giacoso?”

Coso nodded. “Please, sir. I’m looking for Perceptor.”

Optimus nodded. “Perceptor is likely deployed on the walls at this time. When we are being attacked from long distances, we need him and Bluestreak to help defend us. They’re the best snipers we have.”

“Oh,” Coso said. “I have to tell him to leave the city.”

All eyes turned to the sparkling in shock.

“Who told you that?” Inferno asked.

An alarm sounded and Hoist turned back to his screen with a curse. “Aerial combatants incoming. Four trines. Elite Trine, Coneheads, Rainmakers, and, frell, Optimus, they recruited the Old Cybertronian Guard – Bitstream, Hotlink, and Nacelle.”

“Frell is a bad word,” Coso said, frowning. “You shouldn’t say it except in emergencies. Well, Ri said ‘you shouldn’t say It', and Skywarp said ‘except in emergencies’.”

“This is an emergency,” Hoist hissed. “The Seekers are probably coming to kill us and we don’t know why.”

“Wait.” Optimus crouched down in front of Coso. “Is it your Ri who’s attacking us?”

Coso nodded. “He sent Rumble and Frenzy to tell me not to be scared and to have my friends leave, but I can’t find Perceptor. He was supposed to tell me who my Sa is, too. Are they really going to kill us? They’re my family. Family doesn’t hurt each other on purpose.”

“They’re not going to kill us,” Optimus promised, “because we’re going to give your Ri what he wants. We’re going to send you back to him, okay?”

Coso nodded. “Can the Dinobots come?”

Powerglide leaned over to whisper at Smokescreen. “Who’s his carrier?”

Smokescreen looked at him in shock. “If I was a better mech, I’d never take a bet from you again. I’d feel too bad about taking all your money. Luckily for me, I’m only a sometimes decent mech.”

Powerglide rolled his eyes. “Well, yeah, but Jazz is dead, so which Seeker did he frag to get us in this mess?”

“Um,” Hoist said for the second time in five minutes, “I hate to break it to you, but Jazz is very alive and very pissed off.” He put his screen up on the main viewer and let everyone take in the image.

Jazz stood on a nearby ridge, hands on his hips and Soundwave and Blaster on either side of him, along with their older cassettes. Behind them were a variety of mechs, including Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Ratchet, Wheeljack, Skyfire, the Combaticons, the Constructicons, Kup, and Astrotrain.

Optimus took a deep breath. “Yes,” he told Coso, “you may take the Dinobots with you.”

* * *

“Surprised they haven’t scrambled the Aerialbots yet with that show,” Blaster said, gesturing at the Seekers flying high and low, and Skywarp teleporting near crucial defense systems in no discernible pattern.

“Yeah,” Jazz muttered. “Me, too.”

“Movement,” Soundwave said, pointing at the entrance nearest them.

The entire mob readied their weapons.

“Merge into Bruticus,” Jazz ordered the Combaticons. He turned to the Constructicons. “Wait for now, but be ready.”

Scrapper nodded. “We will wait until we know it’s true what you’re saying about Prowl.”

Jazz sighed and turned back to the battle. Bruticus’ weapons whirred to life.

“Wait!” Ratchet ran to the front, Wheeljack close behind. “It’s the Dinobots!”

“Giacoso might be with them,” Wheeljack said.

Jazz held his breath, watching the not so gentle giants lumber over in their direction.

Finally, Grimlock stood in front of Jazz. “Him Coso want talk to you him Ri.” He bowed his head and Coso slid down his neck to land feet on the ground.

“Ri!”

Jazz gasped in relief and fell to his knees, holding Coso close. “Did they hurt you?” he demanded, pulling back.

Coso shook his head. “They said frell a lot.”

Jazz laughed and hugged his creation close. “Call off the attack,” he ordered.

Bruticus fell to his individual pieces, and Jazz subtly put himself between Vortex and his sparkling. “You mean we don’t get to beat on Prowl?” Onslaught growled.

The Constructicons lined up, staring the members of the other gestalt down.

“Desist,” Soundwave said, giving them all a sharp look. “You will not be imprisoned for breaking the treaty either. I suggest you be grateful for that.”

The Combaticons grumbled but didn’t voice their frustrations further.

Blaster stared at his conjunx with naked adoration.

Coso knocked on Jazz’ armor. “Ri, I’m supposed to tell you something that Optimus Prime said to me.”

Jazz turned his attention back to his creation and sighed. “Alright, what’s the message?”

“He said to please stop hurting Metroplex and please come inside and talk to Prowl and him because everybody misses you and he thinks you miss everybody.” Coso wrinkled his nose. “I don’t what he has against using big words.”

Jazz laughed and then stared at the city with no small amount of trepidation. He exvented sharply. “Yeah, alright, cat’s out of the bag. It’s probably either this or being hunted down for treason.” He glanced down at Coso. “You wanna stay here with Soundwave and Blaster? They have some creations your age, you never got a chance to hang out with those kinda folk before.”

Coso shook his head. “The Dinobots have to go back, and I want to stay with the Dinobots.” He grinned. “Me Coso King!” He pointed at Grimlock. “Him Grimlock Prime Minister so me Coso don’t have to do not everything.”

All the mechs within hearing laughed.

“Alright,” Jazz said, sighing and standing. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Optimus and Ironhide waited for Jazz at the same entrance the Dinobots had left from, only hoping he would take the offer for the peace offering it was. When the doors opened to reveal the Dinos and their laughing creators, Optimus deflated.

Wheeljack gave a flippant salute. “Good to see you again, Prime. Be easy on him, alright? He left for good reason and life’s been rough for him since.”

Optimus perked up immediately. “So he _is_ coming?”

Wheeljack pointed behind him.

Jazz came through the door, holding Coso on his hip, obviously loathe to be separated from his sparkling again. “Hey, OP,” he said, ducking his head, “long time, no see.”

Optimus took a step forward and wrapped Jazz and Coso both in a giant hug, prompting identical squawks of embarrassment from the both of them.

Jazz’ frame, fraught with tension, relaxed, taking in deep breaths.

Finally, Optimus stepped back. “I miss you, old friend,” he said simply.

“Yeah,” Jazz said. “Yeah, me, too.” He nodded to the mech standing stalwart at Optimus’ side as always. “Hey, ‘Hide. How much trouble am I in this time?”

Ironhide glanced at Optimus for confirmation, then nodded. “There’ll have to be a trial, but from the things that have been said so far, I’m positive you’ll be acquited just for public relations reasons if nothing else. Prowl _did_ kidnap your sparkling.”

“Not gonna lie,” Jazz said, “I was all prepared for him to be here. Kinda glad he isn’t, though.”

“He’s currently in the brig,” Ironhide said, a touch gruffer than usual. “Still got eight cycles on his sentence. Nobody liked the fact that he stole a sparkling. The only reason his other creations aren’t in there with him is because of how desperate they are for his approval. They may not act like it, but it’s the only reason they would go along with that. Springer’ll push his buttons on technicalities, and Bluestreak gets all sad-eyed and stubborn, but they’re good mechs.”

Jazz nodded, thinking for a moment. “I’d like to see him – Prowl, I mean. And I’d like Coso to meet his big brothers, too.”

“That can be arranged,” Optimus agreed.

Mirage shimmered into view at his elbow. “I’ll take you to him.”

Jazz glanced over at his brother in all but blood and nodded. “I’m sorry,” he said. He glanced at Optimus. “I’m not sorry for leaving and I’m not sorry for wanting to keep my sparkling, but I’m sorry I had to, and,” he nodded at Mirage, “I’m sorry for thinking the worst of you when Coso was first taken.”

Mirage shrugged. “I don’t blame you. And if I did, I would have already forgiven you. Let’s go,” he said, “your conjunx is waiting.”

* * *

Springer and Bluestreak were already waiting in the anteroom before the actual cells, sitting across from each other on the hard metal benches. The moment Jazz entered, Bluestreak stood, an apology on his lips.

Jazz waved him off and set Coso down next to him. “Take care of him – I don’t want him to see his sire like that.”

Bluestreak nodded. “Are you okay?”

Jazz sighed. “You know,” he said, “I think I will be. Just gotta get this outta the way first.”

And with that, he pushed through the door into the brig itself.

* * *

Prowl looked up at the sound of footsteps, and then stumbled to his feet and into the bars when he saw who it was coming to visit him. “Jazz,” he breathed, disbelieving.

Jazz stared at him, taking a deep breath. “Hey, Prowler. We need to talk.”

Prowl shuttered his optics. “I apologize for taking him. I thought it was the best way to ensure his safety, and I intended on returning him, and then-”

Jazz held up a hand. “I don’t want to hear excuses. I still haven’t forgotten what you told me when I had my claws in your chest. They told me about Springer, you know. How could you do that to me – how could you do to me exactly what was done to you? Despite what other mechs may think, I know you at least try not to do things to other mechs you know will hurt them. I thought - I hoped... you still loved me, but your actions clearly state otherwise.”

“I do love you, though,” Prowl said quietly. “I want you back in my life and I want to be back in yours, any way you’ll have me.”

Jazz shook his head. “Wanting me back and still loving me are two very different things. How can you be sure you aren’t just still in love with the memory of who I was – and you know memory is unreliable. How can you prove that to me?”

“I can’t,” Prowl admitted. “Not from here.”

Jazz nodded slowly. “I love you,” he said. “I see you in Giacoso every day, and I still love you. But I won’t make myself less for you. That ain’t how I roll, never has been.”

Prowl nodded. “I wouldn’t ask you to do that. That I can promise you.”

Jazz sighed and sat on the floor, dropping into a cross-legged position with all the grace he’d always possessed. “Oh, Prowl....” He sighed. “You’re gonna have to work for me this time. I’m not gonna be easy, and I’m certainly not gonna be chasing you.”

“I understand,” Prowl said.

“You’re gonna have to prove yourself.”

“And I will.”

Jazz stared at him sadly. “I have to tell that you’re part of the reason I left.”

“What? How so?”

Jazz shrugged. “I didn’t think you’d let me keep Coso. And if you did, I couldn’t trust we’d be more than duty. I didn’t want to be anything less than your lover, couldn’t handle that, so I made the decision to cut you out of my life entirely.”

Prowl stared in shock, clutching the bars as he slid down to Jazz’s level. “You could have talked to me.”

Jazz huffed. “It was the one time our difference in rank could’ve gotten in the way, and I was almost sure you’d let it. You had the power to order me to get rid of him. I couldn’t let that happen.”

“I wouldn’t have,” Prowl said. “I would’ve loved him. I still will if you let me have the chance. How can I not when he’s so perfect?”

Jazz laughed. “Yeah? Perfectly obstinate, if that’s what you mean. I blame you for that one.”

Prowl smiled. “Did he tell you he had us playing Mario Kart?”

Jazz leaned forward. “Tell me.”

* * *

Coso swung his legs as he waited for his Ri to come back.

Bluestreak sighed. “I hope they can reconcile. Prowl was so much better with Jazz.”

“Yeah?” Springer asked. “Happy you got to see it.”

Coso frowned, noting something off about his tone.

“Why are you always trying to pick fights with me?” Bluestreak snapped. “My life wasn’t magic and sunshine and rainbows, thank you very much. I lost everything – my family, my city!”

“And you got _my_ family out of it instead!” Springer growled.

Coso glanced between them, making himself small. “I thought you two were brothers,” he said, quiet and hesitant.

“I could never be his brother,” Springer spat. “He’s a thief. He stole my Ri, when I can’t even remember him.”

“At least he chose me,” Bluestreak snarled.

“And he chose to give me up! He chose to give me up, and he chose to keep you even though you weren’t his and never will be really his, and it’s either hate him or hate you, and, oh, there’s only one sane choice there!”

Bluestreak blinked in shock. “But he didn’t choose to give you up,” he said.

Springer scowled. “Then why did he?”

“He was ordered to,” Bluestreak explained. “The Senate was still in charge then, not Prime, and they still enforced functionalism with almost religious fervor. After your sire was imprisoned, it was just you and Prowl, and he was an Enforcer. They would never have let him raise a sparkling by himself, even in the golden age, his duty was to be imprisoning criminals, and he couldn’t do that if he refused to take risks because he had someone to come home to.” He took a deep, shaky breath. “I’m the one that he chose – chose to replace you. Not because he wanted someone different or better, but because he had unresolved carrier protocols and they latched onto the first sparkling he saw. I’m literally _just_ a replacement. And then Optimus took control from the Senate and he was allowed to adopt me, so he did. And then I grew up....”

Springer stared in shock. “Why didn’t he tell me this?”

Bluestreak shrugged.

“Are you saying my Sa doesn’t love you?” Coso asked.

Bluestreak smiled sadly. “He did, once, but it was coding imperative, not real feelings. And now I’m just his duty. One of the only other Praxians left, so he has to make sure the culture stays alive in me, even though there’s no way I could pass it on myself. Our people are going to be extinct, it’s already a done deal, and I only hope I’m not the last one left at the end.” He turned back to Springer. “Now he has you back, and I have to work twice as hard just to get him to notice me. He used to somehow instinctively know whenever I had a nightmare and be up waiting for me, no matter how old I got, up to the nanoklik you landed on Earth. Now he spends his nights recharging on the floor in front of your quarters to make sure no one comes and takes you away from him again. And I have no one else left who even _pretends_ to care about me. Jazz left. All my real friends left when Prowl ended the war for you. And all the people I thought were my friends got rid of me as fast as possible once we didn’t have to live together all day every day.”

Springer stood and crossed over to the other side of the room.

Bluestreak looked up at him defiantly. “So... if you finally deactivate me like I know you want to, you’d be doing me a favor.”

Springer sat down with a huff and dragged Bluestreak into a hug. “You seriously need to talk to Smokescreen.”

“I have been since I was little,” Bluestreak said, deadpan, sitting limp in the embrace.

Springer shrugged. “You need to tell him you feel that way.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t want to deactivate you.”

“Okay.”

“I’m just jealous because however Prowl felt about you, you still got to spend time with our creator that I was robbed of.”

“Okay,” Bluestreak said, relaxing into the hug.

Coso stood on the bench. “Can I have a hug, too?”

“Yeah,” Springer laughed. “Get over here.”

Bluestreak held out an arm and dragged Coso onto his lap, while Springer readjusted his arms to hold them both.

“I really want brothers,” Coso said, “but not brothers who fight.”

Springer hummed in thought. “I think we’re done fighting for a while.” He glanced down Bluestreak. “This is me officially asking for a truce, and... offering an apology.”

“Truce accepted,” Bluestreak said immediately. “And... apology accepted, too. If you’ll accept mine.”

“Yeah.” Springer grinned and wrapped Bluestreak and Coso both in headlocks, gentling his touch as they yelped. “I think it’s going to be fun to have younger brothers.”

“Glad to hear it,” Jazz said, stepping back into the anteroom.

“Ri!” Coso jumped up and ran to his creator. “How did it go?”

Jazz took a deep breath. “I think... I think your Sa and I might be able to work something out.”

“Yes!” Bluestreak cheered quietly.

Jazz smiled at him, then turned to Springer. “Hey,” he said, holding out a hand. “We haven’t met, I’m Jazz.”

Springer eyed the hand warily for a moment, then grasped it firmly. “Hi, Jazz. Guess that makes you my new Sa.”

* * *

Jazz carefully tucked another blanket around Coso. “Warm enough? It’s freezing here compared to home.”

Coso nodded. “I’m good.”

“Good.” Jazz stroked his creation’s face. “Was that as scary for you as it was for me?’

“Yeah,” Coso said, “but I was courageous.”

Jazz grinned and pressed his nasal strut against his creation’s. “Yeah, I’ll bet you were. Shoulda named you Lionheart or something.”

Coso grinned. “I could be Dinobot King Coso the Lionhearted, like King Richard from Robin Hood.”

“Uh-huh, we’ll talk about it.” Jazz tapped Coso’s nose. “I’m still not happy you decided to fight someone that much bigger than you.”

“Do I get that from Prowl or you?”

Jazz laughed. “Ai yi yi, that’s all me, I’m afraid. Prowl was a risk-reward kinda guy even then. I was the one that liked to dive into things headfirst. Honestly, that’s probably how I got you.”

Coso nodded, frowning. “Is that why you went away – because you were afraid Prowl would want to terminate me?”

“Now where did you hear that?”

Coso shrugged. “Pretty much everybody.”

Jazz sighed. “Alright, budge over, bacon.” He wiggled his way onto the berth, laying down and holding his creation close.

“Am I a risk?” Coso asked, quiet and small.

“You,” Jazz said, kissing the top of his head, “are the best reward I have ever gotten in my life. And I went away because, yeah, I was afraid Prowl wouldn’t see it that way.”

“Does he?”

Jazz smiled. “Does he see it my way? Yeah, I think he does now. And if he ever says any different, you tell me and we’ll leave right away.”

Coso bit his lip. “I don’t want to leave....”

“Then I’ll set him straight,” Jazz promised. “Maybe I’ll sic some of your uncles on him. You got way more of those than just the Seekers now, you know?”

Coso nodded. “I know. Plus the Dinobots will protect me!”

Jazz pressed his face close and nuzzled Coso’s nose with his own. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Jazz grinned and sat up. “Alright, well, I think it’s sleepy time now.”

Coso pouted. “Dinobots no have to have no bedtime no more.”

“Well, Coso does,” Jazz countered smoothly. “Because if you stay up too late, you’ll sleep in way too late, and you’ll miss breakfast. And breakfast is the most important meal of the day, now, isn’t it?”

Coso nodded, then reached out and grabbed Jazz’ arm. “Will you stay? Bluestreak said that when he has nightmares, he used to go and stay with Prowl. Those are the ones Starscream said you get that are like bad dreams but they feel real. And if I have a nightmare, I want you, not Prowl.”

Jazz smiled sadly and laid back down. “Yeah,’ he said. “Alright. Alright, it’s time to sleep now. I’ll be here.”

Coso smiled. “Love you, Ri. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Jazz whispered.

* * *

“Ready?” Mirage asked.

Jazz took a deep breath. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” he reported, saluting flippantly. 

“Someone wanted to come see you,” Mirage said. “I’m not sure you want to talk to him, though.”

Jazz glanced at his friend, raising an eyebrow. “You can let Prowl in to see me, Mirage.”

Mirage wrinkled his nose in distaste. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” Jazz nodded.

Mirage huffed and left.

Jazz took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Meditation was a habit he’d gotten out of after Coso had emerged, but it was still a useful one.

Mirage did not return, but it wasn’t long before a pair of steady footsteps beat their measure against the floor.

Jazz opened one eye. “Hey, Prowler.”

Prowl sighed and sat next to him on the floor. “Today’s a big day.”

“Optimus says I’m all but guaranteed to be acquitted.”

“You’re still nervous.”

“How can you tell?”

“Your ops protocols are running.”

Jazz smiled gratefully and overrode the mods that allowed him to pass completely soundlessly if he chose. “It was a rhetorical question, but thanks.”

Prowl nodded, covering up his wince with a hopeful smile.

“How’re the boys doing?”

“Coso is jumping off the walls, to tell you the truth. I believe there were goodies involved, because he is still quite nervous.”

Jazz snorted a laugh. “Nah, that’s just how he is. I’m glad he finally trusts you.”

Prowl shook his head. “Trust isn’t the word I would use.”

“Yeah, what word would you use?”

Prowl opened his mouth, then closed it, frowning. He glanced at Jazz and they both burst out laughing.

Jazz leaned forward for a kiss, then caught himself and swayed back. “And Springer and Blue?”

Prowl frowned. “Springer keeps giving me these looks. He’s become remarkably less aggressive and stubborn recently, as well. I’m worried that he might have caught a virus or something along that line.”

Jazz shrugged. “Could always ask him.”

Prowl inclined his head thoughtfully. “I could at that.” He fell silent for a moment, planning out his approach, then shook his head. “Bluestreak is the most calm of the three of them. He’s a good influence, I think.”

Jazz nodded. “I believe it.”

The two of them fell into a comfortable silence. Prowl shifted and it turned awkward. “Do you -” he said “- would you, I mean – would you like to have dinner after this? All five of us, I mean. A family dinner.”

“You mean if I’m not in prison or executed?” Jazz joked.

Prowl flinched, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Sure. I’d like that.”

Prowl grinned, and then turned solemn. “If that does happen, what happens to Giacoso?”

“Oh.” Jazz waved a hand. “I thought I told you. Blaster and Soundwave get custody – can you believe they want thirty-six sparklets? – and you’ll still have visitation rights and Praxian holidays, though you’ll have to share with the Seekers if there’s any overlap between Praxian and Vosi celebrations. I arranged it all with Ultra Magnus – I know you hate him, but he does good, thorough work.”

Prowl nodded. “I... don’t. Hate him. He was the one who delivered the order to give up Ostaros. He didn’t give the order, but he delivered it. My coding still does not allow me to feel negatively toward commanding officers, so....”

Jazz stared at him, sadness written all over his frame and posture. “I’m sure if you asked, Optimus would have Perceptor remove it.”

Prowl shrugged, smiling ruefully. “I’m not allowed to ask.”

Silence once again descended, this time neither awkward nor comfortable.

Mirage cleared his throat, stepping into the room. “It’s nearly time,” he said. “I’m afraid you need to leave, Prowl.”

Prowl sighed and stood. “I’ll see you after, I hope.”

Jazz went up on the balls of his feet to press a kiss to the center of Prowl’s chevron. “I hope so, too.”

* * *

“Everything alright?” Springer asked as Prowl rejoined them.

Prowl nodded. “Jazz is nervous and pretending not to be.” He paused to grab Coso as he dashed by and scoop him up onto his hip. “Much like his creation, hm?”

Coso raised an eyebrow and put his hands on his hips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Prowl smiled and set him back down. “Go sit with Bluestreak. It’s starting soon.”

Coso nodded and ran to his immediately older brother, jumping into his lap. Bluestreak caught him with a grunt of pain, and proceeded to distract him with conversation.

Prowl sighed and sat next to Springer. “I need to speak with you.”

“Okay?”

“I am... grateful you and Bluestreak seem to be getting along better. I wanted to make sure it’s not just because you don’t think your voice is heard in this family.”

Springer frowned and leaned back. “Well, first, I wouldn’t call us a family. We’re getting there, but we’ve still got a long ways to go. But, yeah, I didn’t just give up or anything. I just... You gave _me_ up.”

Prowl shook his head. “Not willingly. As much as my Enforcer coding allows me to be ‘not willing’.”

Springer nodded. “Yeah, I know that now. But until Bluestreak told me, _all_ I knew was that you gave me up. And it looked a hell of a lot like after that, you just adopted a sparkling you thought was better. I didn’t understand what made me less... worthy of being loved?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Prowl said, as quickly as possible. “You’re my creation, and I love you, and I’ve missed you all these years.” He looked over at Bluestreak. “And I love your brother an equal amount, it has nothing to do with who came from my frame or who spent the most time with me. You are both my creations.”

Springer sighed thoughtfully and looked over at Bluestreak. “You should tell him that. He thinks just because you have me back, you have no use for him anymore.” He turned to Prowl, suddenly grave. “I’m worried about him. He mentioned something about it being a favor to be deactivated. I told him to tell Smokescreen, but who knows if he actually will.”

Prowl’s eyes widened in shock. “I’ll talk to him.” He stood and started toward the other Praxian, then stopped and leaned down to press a kiss like a benediction to Springer’s forehelm. “Thank you.”

Springer sat back and watched as Prowl sat down next to Bluestreak and, with a smile, sent Giacoso to the Dinobots – under the watchful eyes of Ratchet and less watchful eyes of Wheeljack. His creator and sibling spoke quietly for several moments, and then Bluestreak burst into tears and tackled Prowl around the waist, pressing his head into his shoulder. Prowl kissed his head and then looked over at Springer, mouthing “Thank you” once again.

Springer nodded.

Just then, the courtroom doors opened. “It’s time,” Ultra Magnus said.

Everyone stood and filed their way inside in an orderly fashion. Optimus Prime took his seat as Reeve, and the trial began.

* * *

“This hearing of evidence will commence in the following fashion,” Ultra Magnus said. “First, we will hear the defendant’s testimony against the two charges of treason and desertion. Second, we will hear the testimony of witnesses to the defendant’s state of mind before and after the event in question. Third, we will open the discussion to the opinions on the case held by the defendant’s peers as well as additional witness or character testimonies. Final, his Honorable Reeve, Prime chosen by Primus, Leader of Reunified Cybertron, Commander-in-Chief of the Cybertronian Planetary Armada, Chief of the High Offices of City Enforcers-”

Optimus cleared his throat.

Ultra Magnus glared at him but skipped the rest of his many titles. “Optimus Prime will announce his verdict. Begin examination of the defendant.” He sat in his place at Optimus’ right, and Jazz was lead to the lectern at the center of the room.

“Before we begin,” Optimus said, “I will remind the defendant that if any portion of the questioning is too difficult to verbally recount, he has the right to request examination by mnemnosurgeon instead. The trial will be immediately halted and postponed until a certified surgeon can be found and reassigned to Earth.”

Jazz nodded.

Optimus turned to Ultra Magnus. “Begin your questioning, Spokesperson.”

Ultra Magnus stood once more and circled Jazz like a vulture. “Did you or did you not desert your post as Autobot second officer and head of special operations?”

“I did,” Jazz admitted.

“Please state your reasons to the court.”

“I feared for the life of my newspark.”

“How so?”

“I feared in retaliation for kindling during war time, I would be ordered to terminate.”

“Were you or were you not conjunxed at the time?”

“I was.”

“Were or were not you and your conjunx the highest ranking members of the Autobot army, second only to the Prime?”

“We were.”

“Please state to the court from whom you feared retaliation for kindling.”

Jazz winced. “From my conjunx.”

“Were or were not you aware of your conjunx’ other creations?”

“I was aware of one of them.”

“Which one?”

“Bluestreak, whom he adopted as a mechling.”

Ultra Magnus nodded. “Did you or did you not accept aid from Decepticon soldiers?”

“I did.”

“What were the terms of their aid?”

“Mine or theirs?”

“Start with theirs and we will move on to yours if necessary.”

Jazz nodded. “They asked me to refrain from contacting other Autobots. This is something I had already planned to do. They asked me to allow them to remain in the life of my sparkling. They asked me to teach a factual and unbiased history of Cybertron, free of both Autobot and Decepticon propaganda, when my sparkling was old enough to learn.”

“Did you agree to these terms?”

“I did.”

“And there was no mention of trading information?”

“That’s correct.”

“And you performed no services for the Decepticons while you were under their care?”

Jazz smirked and leaned forward. “Well, no services that weren’t mutually pleasurable, but I don’t think that’s what you’re asking.”

Kup burst into laughter first, and several other Autobots followed suit. Even Optimus Prime cracked a smile.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Coso asked.

The dying snickers gained a second wind, drowning out Bluestreak and Prowl’s frantic shushing.

Ultra Magnus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Did you perform any services for the Decepticons related to your function as an Autobot?”

“I did not,” Jazz answered.

Magnus nodded. “You may be seated. We will now hear testimony from the Winglord and former Decepticon Air Commander Starscream.”

Jazz breathed out a sigh of relief as he sat down, then refocused on the others’ testimonies. He glanced at Optimus as Ultra Magnus continued his line of questioning, hoping for some hint of how the Reeve was leaning.

Optimus caught his eye and winked.

* * *

Jazz stood straighter as Hound walked by him, back to Skyfire. There had been over a hundred witnesses – from Spike to Metalhawk to Giacoso himself, whose testimony had consisted of “Prowl was really rude the second time I met him, and also he had me kidnapped, and also also, I really don’t want my Ri to die please.” Now, he waited with baited breath for his sentencing.

“Are there any others who would like to offer witness of actions or state of mind or testimony of character?” Ultra Magnus asked.

No one stepped forward.

Ultra Magnus waited the traditional thirteen kliks then turned to Prime. “Has his Honorable Reeve, Optimus Prime, Prime chosen by Primus reached a verdict?”

“I have,” Optimus said.

“The defendant will return to the lectern to receive sentencing.”

Jazz stood and made his way, leaning on the simple podium when he arrived.

Optimus stood. “On the charge of treason, I find you Not Guilty. On the charge of desertion of your post, I find you Guilty With Reasonable Reasons, lawmechs may refer to Cybertronian Martial Law 209.073.91b - Excessive Danger to Dependents. You are acquitted of all charges.” He held up a hand as he continued. “This trial will henceforth serve as precedent retroactive. Any former Autobots who followed the same or similar course of action for the same or similar reason are to be acquitted and any corrective actions taken will be reversed and stricken from the record immediately upon arrival of this transcript at any Cybertronian settlement. By the will of Primus, it is so.”

The mechs around the room cheered.

Optimus smiled down at Jazz and then turned to Ultra Magnus. “Spokesperson, remove the barrier between the defendant and the public. Jazz,” he called, “do you wish to invoke the tradition of Saying?”

Jazz smiled gratefully. “I think we kinda did that with all the character witnesses that came forth, your Honorable Reeve. I’d really just like to spend some time with my family now.”

Optimus nodded. “I understand. Spokesperson?”

Ultra Magnus bowed and dutifully lowered the entire fence surrounding the lectern with the flick of a switch.

Immediately, mechs swamped Jazz with their congratulations. Blaster tackled him with a hug while his conjunx watched and nodded respectfully, Mirage and Hound came up on either side of him to pat his shoulders, Bumblebee squeezed himself between them and wrapped his arms around his waist. The Coneheads and Elite Trine surrounded him, their broad wings acting like shields from the throng of other mechs who wanted to see, touch, or meet him.

“Ri!” Coso shouted, barrelling toward him like a guided missile, scattering grounders and diving between Thundercracker’s legs.

Jazz laughed and scooped him up in his arms, throwing him gently into the air before catching him and holding him close.

Prowl approached slowly, standing at a respectable distance.

Jazz smiled at him. “You don’t mind if the Seekers come along to dinner, do you?”

Prowl laughed, shaking his head. “Not at all.” He glanced up at Starscream. “My apartments? I believe they’re most likely to fit everyone.”

Starscream inclined his head, smiling in a way that was most gracious for him. “Lead the way.”

* * *

Jazz cradled Coso’s sleeping frame as close to his spark as he could, waving goodbye to Springer and Bluestreak as they stumbled out of the building, pushing and shoving each other good-naturedly.

“I think someone wants to talk to you,” Thrust said, nodding his coned head toward Prowl, who was unsubtly sneaking looks at Jazz throughout his remarkably civil conversation with Starscream and Thundercracker.

Prowl glanced away the moment he was caught.

“Can we have Coso for the night?” Thrust asked. “We miss the little bit, and this’ll give you the chance to have an adult conversation that’s not through prison bars or in the antechamber of a courtroom.”

Jazz glanced down at his sparkling. “I still don’t want to let him out of my sight.”

Thrust’s claws scritched comfortingly over Jazz’ helm. “You know he’ll be safe with us. And if you start to panic, you can always comm us and we’ll bring him straight back.”

Jazz sighed and nodded, shifting Coso in his arms. “Alright.” He handed him over to the much larger Seeker, who had no problem cupping the sparkling to his chest with one arm, and stood. “If he has a nightmare, he’ll need to sleep in a pile. No goodies until midday meal.”

“I know, Jazz,” Thrust said with a patient, indulgent smile. “We all do. Go talk to Prowl.”

Jazz took a deep breath, steeling himself, and leaned down to kiss Coso’s forehelm before crossing the room.

All six Seekers were remarkably quick to make themselves scarce.

Once the door closed behind them, Prowl turned to look at Jazz. “Is this a set-up?” he asked, smiling in that wry way of his.

Jazz shrugged. “We need to talk about things.”

Prowl turned serious, putting all his weighty focus on his ex-conjunx. “Alright. Where would you like to start?”

Jazz sighed, and fell silent.

After several kliks of silence, Prowl sighed and motioned to the couch. “Would you like to watch a holo film?”

Jazz laughed in relief. “Yeah, okay.”

The two of them settled in, deciding on a classic known to be terrible and spending as much time pointing out its flaws as cheering at its good moments. In the middle of the finale, Prowl’s helm landed against Jazz’ pauldron with a hollow thunk as he fell into recharge. Jazz spent the rest of the truly, truly terrible film staring at his face in wonder and slowly fading discomfort.

When he realized he’d been staring in silence for several breem, he cupped Prowl’s face in his hand, stroking over his cheekbone with his thumb, and leaned down for a chaste kiss.

“Hm,” Prowl sighed, “I thought you said you weren’t going to be easy this time.”

Jazz laughed and snorted. “What makes you think I don’t kiss on every first date?”

Prowl unshuttered his optics and looked up, serious and playful in equal measure. “Is that what this is?”

Jazz thought for a moment, then shrugged. “It can be.” He leaned down for another kiss. And another, and another.

Prowl moaned softly as he sat up and reached around to gently sink his claws into Jazz’ shoulders. “We do need to talk,” he said, pulling away just enough that their lips still brushed but were no longer connected.

Jazz nodded. “I know. And we will. But we don’t have to do it right now.”

“No,” Prowl agreed, optics twinkling, “not right now.”

And then they lost themselves in each other’s kisses.


End file.
